Omega
by Skeasel
Summary: For many, Omega brings only the end, but for a lucky few it brings success and infamy. She was caught in the middle, looking only to sever the ties that bound her. OC Character driven dark piece. Rated M for multiple reasons.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Bioware owns almost all.

A/N: Dark subject matter. This fic is not recommended for those easily offended. Thanks to my beta, drakontion, for her help and to Sesh for her encouragement.

Chapter 1

Trash. Piss-hole. Omega had many names, but that couldn't change what it was: a festering boil filled with lawless brutes who reveled in the quasi-anarchy of the Terminus Systems. To them, Omega meant profit, trade, action. For them it was a chance to fuck an asari whore and boast to their fellows of their sexual prowess. For others it was a dumping ground, a last resort before the inevitable, pathetic conclusion of their sad existence. Those unfortunate souls spent their last moments as fodder for Omega's underbelly, unwilling participants in bloody games of chance or a sizeable meal for the local Vorcha pack.

Yes, Omega was many things to many people. To me, it was home.

I wasn't born here, no, not originally, but I've lived here long enough to know to watch my back in the streets and avoid the many blind alleyways. I learned to keep an eye on the non-humans, not because they are aliens, but because they're keeping an eye on me. I know that I am unwelcome, but I also know what my life is worth on Omega, and I don't plan on dying anytime soon.

Mother brought us here, not out of any sense of adventure, but because of her poor judgment. She had been diagnosed with an illness I can no longer remember the name of, something debilitating and wasting. She sought passage to another world where it was rumored scientists were working on an experimental cure. She longed for a respite from the pain, and I can vaguely recall her form, fragile and gnarled, the spark of pain blazing in her eyes. In hindsight I wonder if the disease affected her mind too, seeing as how our later predicament was due to her faulty reasoning.

The captain of the ship we booked passage on demanded more money once we were en route. Mother refused, so he dumped us at the most convenient location, Omega. I look back now and I'm thankful that he didn't sell us off to slavers. Still, even with that small kindness our situation was grim. We were without money on a foreign station. Lucky for me, however, the local crime lord took a shine to us. Lucky me.

Mother found us an abandoned apartment rife with the stench of vermin. We squatted there, in a room no bigger than a closet, no running water and no amenities. I was young, I didn't know any better, but Mother knew. She had to have known. She was the one who went to Arch. Much to my delight, our situation improved. Of course I had no idea at the time what all that would entail.

Arch liked to call himself a businessman, although in reality he was a pimp, a thief, a murderer; he liked to "add color to his persona" he used to say. He hooked Mother up with a job at a local club, serving drinks since she wasn't able to dance. Arch had asari for that and Mother just didn't have the coordination anymore. She used to say that grace had drained from her system. I didn't realize it at the time, stupidly idolizing Arch for his show of compassion, but he had his own uses for Mother. She blamed the bruises on her disease, and I was too naïve to know better.

He brought books to our meager abode, our second apartment upon arriving on Omega. We had running water and even a second bedroom, and I filled it with all manner of the written word. Paper was a luxury in the Terminus, and I hid my favorite books under my ratted mattress, taking them out often, careful not to damage the fragile bindings. It was the scent of the ink, the feel of the text beneath my grubby paws that I loved, hearing the soft crinkle of the pages as I turned them. I loved to lose myself in those books, filled with wonder and marvels that I could imagine on any planet, but not Omega. Home was stale, dirty, sick, and I loved Arch all the more for allowing me to visit those places, if only in my mind, and if only for a short while.

Mother died when I was seven, at least I think I was seven. Time was difficult for me to understand as a child, and I had no concept of the measure of cycles on Omega and how they differed from Earth. All I knew was that one day Mother didn't move, her pale eyes staring at the ceiling, devoid of life. I sat with her, shaking her gently, confusion clouding my mind. I don't remember that time, as if a thankless fog rolled in and blanketed my memory, but I later learned I stayed by her side for three days before Arch found us.

He was furious, not because she was dead, but because she didn't report to work. He had lost money, expecting her to be there, working, serving, lining his pockets with more credits. I remember he kicked her body, her stiff form barely budging against his anger. I yelped in fear before realizing my mistake and he smacked me upside the head. I had never known such pain. It was the first of my many lessons.

I was moved again, put to work in Arch's home scrubbing the floors, cleaning dishes; menial tasks meant for his servants. I wasn't considered a servant. I didn't rank that high and the household staff were quick to take note. Swift kicks to my gut while I scrubbed the floor, or quick jabs to my side while I did the dishes alerted others that I was new meat and weak. They preyed upon me for a time, until one day I lashed out at one of my torturers with a fork that I had been polishing. She only had one eye by the end of the day, and I received a beating from Arch that seemed to last forever. I was relegated to cells after that.

I don't remember too much of that time, cognizance clouded by the head trauma I had surely sustained, but I remember the feel of the place. The lights were dim, yellowed with age; the thickness of the air whispered of stagnation. Liquid - not water - trickled down the walls from above, thin ribbons of waste polluting my nostrils and stinging my eyes. At times I could hear choked cries of those in the cells around me, meager rants and ramblings, pathetic mewling in the night. I sat, curled into a ball in the only corner not covered with the defecation of ages.

Arch's men came at odd hours and delivered food and drink, sometimes often, sometimes not at all, and I hoarded what little sustenance they brought. I had no sense of time, lost in the continuous hum of Omega's energies, the other captives adding accompaniment to the choir of desperation. I am surprised I survived that place, stunted with the memory of death and decay as I am. Some days I almost wish I had perished.

Then one day they came for me, dragging me through the musty halls and around darkened corners, pulling my fragile young form along behind them. Arch's men cared not for my condition, just so long as they followed orders. They were not wont to overexert themselves. They threw me on the floor of the kitchen, Arch's feet the only thing before my eyes. I expected another beating, but instead of curling into a ball and protecting myself, I looked up and met his eyes.

Stupid.

Subservience was yet another lesson I learned and I learned it well as he planted his boot in my face. I was taken away again, thrown into a cold tub and scrubbed harshly by an old woman on the household staff. She glared at me, her rough hands kneading my flesh and peeling the layers of filth from my body. She tossed my garments into the disposal to be burned, and I remember wondering if I was to follow.

She dunked my head down without warning, soapy, dirty water stinging my eyes and filling my nostrils. I popped up quickly, gasping for breath only to be dunked again, the rough old hands wrenching my hair as she washed it. I came back up for air as she released her grip on me, only to be confronted by a pair of dull scissors in her hands. I swear I remember her laughing gleefully as she practically ripped the hair from my head. In the end, I was clean, and I held my tears back at the feel of my shorn head.

I looked to the old hag as she returned the scissors to the drawer, a toothy grin on her wretched face. I decided then that I would learn patience.

I was returned to my slave quarters, as I later learned that's exactly what they were, and fished in my mattress for my one, single treasure. Sighing with what little childhood innocence I had left I pulled my favorite book from its hiding place, savoring the smell of the ink, the feel of the weathered pages beneath my raw fingertips. I had this one peace, this land beyond Omega in which no hell reigned.

Too late I realized my error. The old hag had followed me to my quarters, a new shift in her arms to cover my bony body. She snatched the book from my grasp, her toothy, wretched face contorted by curiosity. She spoke, her voice harsh, disapproving, and jammed the book into the pocket of her dirty apron. Tossing the shift at my huddled form she slammed the door shut. I heard the click of the lock, despair settling in as I realized the truth: there was no land beyond Omega in which hell did not reign.

Days passed swiftly as I settled back into my routine. I received no more swift kicks to my gut while scrubbing the floors and no one dared come near me while I was washing the dishes. The wretched old hag hovered near me and I suspect now that she was assigned to keep an eye on me, a dubious honor indeed. Looking back, I believe that's why she treated me with such cruelty. I, not Arch, was the reason for her tedium, the reason she had been taken away from her more glamorous chores and cast down to monitor a lowly slave.

Her presence annoyed and infuriated me, but I learned to hide my frustrations, focusing my anger instead on the cheap imitation stone tiles that Arch's whore liked to use in her decor. Perhaps that is why the wretched old woman hated me so – she could no longer fawn over Arch's cheap wife and play dress-up with her.

Days passed into months, and months passed into years, and not a one went by where the wretched hag didn't engage in some form of torture. Her favorite pastime, it seemed, was chopping off my hair with the infamous pair of dull scissors she kept stashed in the storage drawer. She would wrench my head to the side after dunking my head underwater, pulling my hair tight away from my scalp, and slicing through it with brutal efficiency. Despite her withered appearance, she was surprisingly strong, especially compared to my prepubescent form. I endured it with the passionless stoicism only a slave child could muster.

It was around the time of my thirteenth year when fate decided to intervene. The wretched hag had me by the hair again, dunking my wiry form into the cold water, the tub seeming to grow smaller year by year. Water sloshed over the sides as she wrenched my head back and forth, dunking and slicing, dunking and slicing. Clumps of wet hair dropped to the floor, littering the metal paneling that covered the servant's wing. Puddles of soapy water drenched the floor, and I saw the hag struggle to maintain her balance more than once. It was then that inspiration struck.

She grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled. I resisted, fought against her with what little strength I could bring to bear. I pushed against the tub's edge and hauled her forward. Had I been any younger, I doubt I would have had the power to pull her off balance, but I had learned the lesson of patience quite well. The wretched hag lost her grip on my hair, tumbling forward, arms flailing while aged feet slipped on the wet floor. I heard the crack of her skull as it hit the metal paneling, ringing like a gong from an alien temple.

Water sloshed over the edges of the tub as first surprise, then satisfaction lit my face. Arch's guards had heard her fall and rushed into the room. I tried to sink into the cold tub, hiding my naked child's form as they screamed at me for my incompetence. I tried to explain that it wasn't my fault, that she was old and she slipped. Whether or not they believed me is anyone's guess. I ended up back in the cells again, but this time it had been worth it.

I had learned the lesson of revenge.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Bioware owns some.

A/N: This chapter is rated MA for underage non-con/rape, violence, and some language.

Chapter 2

I was left well enough alone after the wretched hag fell. Even the guards seemed more wary of my presence, shifting subtly in their stances, hiding the boredom on their faces. Looking back, I had become even more of a pariah than before and the household staff eyed me suspiciously, whispering loudly in the halls when I passed by. They didn't quite know what to make of me and they were scared. During that time I questioned why Arch even kept me around, but all too soon I realized the truth.

I believe it was in my fifteenth year when he took me for his own pleasure, hot breath and male stench polluting my senses. Pain throbbed within my body, searing like a bright lance as he forced himself inside me. I had not known what to expect and had been deceived by his kind words and encouragement. Arch could be very charismatic when he chose to be.

He plied me with drink and sweets, with the promise of a hot bath and expensive soaps. I ate up his kind attention, rarely having known the like, and fell for his ruse when he presented me with a new book: an asari classic which, roughly translated, was titled Eden. Warmth filled me and a feeling of excited happiness that I had thought forgotten overcame my better judgment. I forgot myself. I should have realized, should have known what to expect; and when he kissed me I withdrew from him, suddenly shocked by this new form of attention. He smacked me then, sending my mind reeling and knocking my new book across the floor.

I remember the hiss of the cover as slid out of my grasp, skittering wildly along the cheap stone tiling. I remember worrying more about the safety of my new treasure than that of my own body. With simple, cruel ease, he plucked up my wiry frame and dumped me into the hot water of his fancy tub, scrubbing me harshly with his expensive soaps. I endured the torment as I always had thinking it was nothing I was not used to. I had much to learn yet.

After he cleaned my body to his satisfaction, he tossed me on the bed, his anger still seething from what he perceived as an insult on my part. I had displeased him, had not allowed him the right to a simple kiss, and he made to sure impart how very disappointed in me he was. He ripped his belt from his trousers with an oddly strange sense of grace and proceeded to beat me with it. I curled into a ball and attempted to protect my small, fragile body, doing my best to remain quiet. I had believed that crying out would anger him even more. Once again I had been wrong. He _wanted_ me to scream.

The beating seemed to last for hours, the sick smack of leather against skin filled my ears and still my mouth remained closed. I was stubborn. I should have better learned to be subservient, although I think that would have also earned his ire. His arms never seemed to tire and his determination was ever growing. I tried to burrow deeper within the covers, only to have him curse that my blood had stained his sheets. It was then that his arousal was evident, and he took me on the mess of the bed, adding my virgin blood to the soiled sheets.

I had hobbled back to my quarters after he finished with me; aching, defiled, and I remember wondering why adults would find pleasure in such a sadistic experience. Of course, too late I realized that Arch prided himself on sadism. He and his fellows would often boast of their sexual escapades at the club while eyeballing the dancing whores. Arch took sick pleasure in starting his conquests off young, breaking them, training them, bending them to his will. My body was so broken after his first use of me that I doubted I could ever live through another "session." I was wrong. It is amazing how resilient a single person can be when they have no other options.

I returned to scrubbing the floors after that, tired and weary, my wounds healing over. It was during one such routine day that Arch's wife returned home. She paused as she walked by me, her gaze drifting over my hunched figure, and I remembered my place. I ceased my work and sat back on my heels, eyes downcast, acknowledging her presence and awaiting her orders.

Rough hands yanked my face up and I met her eyes, dark and voluminous, filled with the spark of disgust. She recognized her husband's handiwork on my face, the dull ache of the bruise having faded in the passing days. She searched my eyes, aquiline nose mere inches from my own. Her perfume was heavy and nauseating in its potency, but I kept my disgust in check. She, however, did not.

Her face crinkled with disdain, eyes glowering with anger, and she drew back and hit me. Fortunately for me, her strength was not that of her husband's, but I knew enough to fall to the floor regardless. Her vengeance delivered, she stormed through the household complex to her rooms. I never did hear the argument between Arch and his wife, but the whispers of the household staff echoed through the halls the following day.

I learned to despise the times when Arch's wife was home, even though when she was not he would use me for his own. I learned how to avoid his beatings, to please him, and garnered some twisted measure of respect for the man when it came to the consistency of his passions. I learned to cry out at the expected times, to groan with pleasure, to please him in all manner of ways that a woman can. I learned what was expected from me, and in order to preserve my own safety, I gave it to him.

His wife was not so generous. When she returned home, she would take one look at me and _know_. Her beatings were erratic, spontaneous, and I never learned when or where to expect them. She grew inventive in all manner and methods of torture, from brutal violence to random humiliation. I remember before leaving on one of her trips she stripped me naked and had me run down the corridor where the house guards bunked. The hoots and howls of laughter, the catcalls that followed were nothing compared to the trickle of villainous laughter that escaped her perfect lips.

Their arguments grew worse, and the whispers of the servants echoed frequently through the hallways. I remember whenever she came home something would break, the result of her temper as she tossed her cheap decorations across the room. Often she would request my presence to clean up the newly made mess, stepping on my fingers and grinding them into the jagged debris on the floor. How I wanted to take those pointed feet and jam those heels in dark, deep places, but I refrained. I had learned patience.

I remember with distinct clarity the night Arch's wife didn't return home. He was lounging on his favorite chair, flipping through the vids while I dried the dishes from the evening's supper. Arch could have bought a machine to do those simplistic chores, but he considered it more impressive to have a live being do it for him; another exercise of his power, and more color for his persona.

He had been watching Vaenia, commenting on the two actresses gallivanting about the screen. I had only seen bits and pieces, but found nothing remotely interesting about it. Arch had just fallen asleep, rugged face almost peaceful in the dim light, when one of his guards burst into the room. His anger was palpable, as I had grown very familiar with his mannerisms by then, and he struck the guard for what he considered an insulting lack of respect. The guard stammered and sputtered, eking out a sorry apology that only served to infuriate Arch even more. It wasn't until he spat out the words "accident" and "explosion" that I realized what had happened.

Outwardly I professed sorrow and regret. Inside though, I was celebrating.

It seemed that Arch's wife had met with some poor luck on her travels. A faulty accelerator had been installed on her cab as she visited Nos Astra. From what I was able to piece together from the gossip, she had lost control of the vehicle and slammed into a sewage disposal unit. The impact caused the unit's fuel cells to rupture and the resulting explosion spread biological waste over a mile radius.

Sometimes patience paid off and sometimes fate was a bitch.

Arch played the part of a distraught widower, mourning his wife's loss in public and garnering the sympathy of his fellows, but his first thoughts were directed toward me. The very night he learned of his wife's death, he had my meager possessions moved to better quarters while he lavished attention upon me. I had never enjoyed a soak in the tub more than I did that evening. I didn't even mind that Arch was in there with me. My appetite for revenge had been satisfied for the time being.

I was required to join him almost every night after. "Jin," he would say. "I need you."

I would dutifully comply, knowing that if I did not the punishments would be severe. I admit I had grown to like the attention at first, the gifts he gave me, believing that my situation at the time was far better than it had been. In some ways it was, in others, not so much. The household staff still whispered as I passed them in the halls, sharp looks and snickers followed in my wake. I paid them little mind as I was now dressed in better clothing than they, had better quarters, and had Arch's favor. What little they could do did not hurt me.

I continued my duties as usual, although after learning of the fate of Arch's wife, scrubbing the cheap tiling actually became enjoyable. My days were filled with the monotony of a slave's life, moving from one task to the next, mindless toil to whittle away the day. I learned to be thankful for the boredom of those days, learning later that the days of others are not so bland and peaceful.

At night, I would attend to my duties with Arch, heed his requests, and answer his calls for pleasure. His tastes for flesh rarely varied, and neither did his appetite for pain. I always knew what to expect from him given the instruments, or lack thereof, present in his room. But compared to others, Arch was a simple man. He never indulged, or even imagined, the volatile tortures of the flesh that I learned of later. His ignorance is the only reason I still embrace a small kernel of love for him.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Bioware owns almost all.

A/N: Thanks to everyone following along so far. This chapter is rated M for some mild violence.

Chapter 3

I believe it was in my seventeenth year that Arch outdid himself. I was polishing the silverware when I heard his familiar call.

"Jin? I need you."

I carefully returned the spoon to its place and the shine of the silver utensil dampened as I closed the drawer. Padding softly down the hall I presented myself before him, ready to answer whatever his pleasure might be. He looked down at me with warmth, an indulgent smile on his lips. Tilting my head upward he bade me meet his eyes. I did as I was asked and his excitement grew.

Wrapping his arm around me we moved across the room and he gestured to a garment bag hanging out of place on the door of his wardrobe. I looked at him curiously, not understanding exactly what it was that he wanted.

"It's for you, Jin. Open it."

I ignored the confusion bursting inside my skull and again did as I was asked. The sound of the zipper echoed through the silence of the room, followed by the hiss of the fabric as the bag fell open. My eyes widened in awe. There before me was the most beautiful red dress I had ever seen. I dared reach out to touch it, and encouraged by the widening smile on Arch's face, I pulled it fully out of its protective casing.

"I bought it for you, Jin. Try it on."

It took a moment for the words to fully sink in. I was used to Arch's gifts of perfume and soaps, books and media, but a dress? I was unsure what to make of it but complied, shedding my meager servant's clothing and letting it pool on the floor beneath me. Careful not to damage the delicate red fabric with my clumsiness, I pulled it over my head, smoothing it down the length of my body. It fit perfectly, save for the bust and hips, which held more room than my young figure could fill.

Arch reached for me, spinning me around to face him, admiring the bright color contrasting against the bronze shade of my skin. He smiled appreciatively, but it quickly faded as he noted the gaps in the form fitting dress. Frowning, he whistled harshly, and a team of womenfolk I didn't recognize spilled into the room. He gestured in irritation at my body, explaining to them about my less than voluptuous figure, and they quickly bombarded me with all manner of instruments. I endured their clucking, their disdain, as they worked to alter the dress to better fit my wiry frame. I endured the torment as I always did.

Arch clasped his hands together in a show of approval when they were done. He turned me around to face the mirror and I had to admit he was right; the dress fit me beautifully, the delicate sheen of the fabric molded perfectly to my slim curves. He nodded, and dismissed the seamstresses, their presence only to be replaced by a second gaggle of women. They sat me down in a nearby chair and immediately started commenting about my hair's lack of upkeep. Startled at this revelation I looked questioningly to Arch who merely nodded and left the room. Apparently, watching me have my hair done was not nearly as entertaining as watching me get dressed.

They worked vigorously to brush the knots out of my hair, adding all manner of product to smooth it down and make it pliable, only to immediately wash it out. I had no concept of their motives, and remember briefly wondering why women continued to torture themselves in this manner, if only to have shiny hair. I gave up trying to figure it out when they turned me back to the mirror.

It took me a moment to recognize the haunted face that stared back at me, eyes like an owl's framed by glowing amber ringlets. I was shocked by my appearance, the difficulty in recognizing myself, not that I had ever paid much attention to mirrors before. No longer did a small child peer back at me. A young woman had taken her place.

The last part of my torment entered the room as the stylists left in the form of a large woman carrying an equally large, colorful box. By this time I had learned not to wonder what was in strange crates, but was pleasantly surprised when she opened the lid. A myriad of rainbows spilled out, make-up for what I could only assume were species other than human.

She was gentle with me, and I found myself silently thanking her for that. She tilted my head back and applied a cool, rich cream to my face. I had never imagined having my face massaged would be such an oddly pleasurable experience. I kept my eyes closed as she added a dusting of color to my cheeks and lips, a thin line of depth to my eyes. I remember her saying something about how youth need not look whorish.

It was over quickly, and when I opened my eyes she was gone. I turned to look at my reflection, once more surprised by what I saw. A healthy glow suffused my face, and long lashes framed dark eyes. Arch approached from behind me, laying his hands on my shoulders as he studied my appearance in the mirror.

"You are beautiful, Jin. Come with me. I have another surprise for you."

I like to think that even the most intelligent of women could be taken in by a line like that, and in my youth I was hardly the exception. He placed his hands over my eyes, leading me blindly forward. My steps were tentative, hesitant, careful not to accidentally wander into one of his prized possessions and render it worthless through my clumsiness.

I could smell his scent on his palms, deep and rich, a hint of gunmetal mixed with flesh. He sat me down on the sofa, my body sinking into the soft cushions, and pulled his hands from my eyes. Before me was a collection of books piled high on the center table. I blinked in disbelief, shocked that so many books could be in one location; and they were mine? I glanced up at Arch, the longing and surprise plain on my face and he chuckled in response to my eager innocence. No doubt I would have to perform well tonight for this extravagance.

He settled down beside me and gestured back towards the table. "They're all yours, Jin. Do you like them?"

I kissed him then, willingly, with both meaning and purpose, but without thought. My affection toward him had become a reflex born of training, and now gratitude. I dove into the pile of books as his smile widened, white teeth gleaming as he sipped a brandy. He had trained me well, and he knew it.

I grew so lost in my search of the literature that I almost failed to see the hunger in his eyes. Book upon book graced my hand and I handled each one with the delicacy of a fragile egg. Topics ranging from chemistry and biology to politics and anthropology covered the table, and I scanned only the cover synopses, understanding that Arch would not approve of my inattention for long. I replaced the books I had taken, stacked them neatly back on the table, and thanked him once more.

My hand was hot on his leg as I kissed him again, the brandy sharp on his tongue. He trailed his touch down my arm, fingers gently caressing my skin, but I knew he would not take me quite yet; not after he had spent all that time getting me ready. No, Arch had something else planned, something other than what I had seen so far. I was both eager and apprehensive to find out just what exactly he had in store for me. I learned soon enough.

He grabbed a wrap from the garment bag, a delicate accessory of the same red fabric, and draped it over my shoulders. We walked through the halls of his home, the whispers of the servants echoing as I passed, the guards sharing knowing looks at their posts. What I had expected, I cannot say, but it certainly didn't involve leaving the apartments. I had not, in all the time living with Arch, ever left his home. For the first time in ten years, that was about to change.

His car was waiting for us, black and sleek, gaudy gold trim lining the seams. I found it to be garish and in poor taste, reminding me all too much of his dead wife, and a mixture of emotion flooded me at her memory. Twisted satisfaction churned in my gut knowing that I was enjoying the fineries that she no longer could. _I_ was riding in the fancy car, and _I_ bathed in the expensive soaps, and _she_ was dead.

I kept my thoughts silent as I slid into the back seat of the car, Arch's driver waiting patiently for me to situate myself. It would not do to share my feelings with Arch as he would find it irritating and childish. I knew better than to consider myself his equal, or that he cared for my opinion at all. He shifted on the seat beside me, black leather upholstery creaking as he did so, and wrapped an arm around my shoulders to pull me close. Many emotions filtered through my system that evening, but what I remember most was awe.

The hum of the engines tickled my ears as we took off, rising slightly in pitch as the car accelerated. I gazed out the tinted windows at the other passers-by, personal transports and cabs flitting by in a haze of color as we sped onward. I noticed Arch observing me and turned my attention toward him, flashing my most brilliant smile, appreciative of his gifts, of his attention. He cupped my chin in smooth hands, his thumb tracing the shape of my lips as his eyes continued to hunger. I briefly wondered for a moment if he was going to take me in the car, but he dropped his hands suddenly, leaving the ache of absence on my skin.

We touched down on a brightly lit landing pad, traffic lights flashing in Omega's eternal glow. The driver exited first, opening the door for Arch, followed shortly by me. The guards arrived in the car after us, plain and drab in a standard conveyance compared to Arch's lavish mode of transportation. They fell in step behind us, dutiful and alert, but I could feel their eyes upon me and a mixture of excitement and revulsion flared in my veins. Given the way Arch eyed me I suspected he found me very appealing, but the idea that others might find me desirable as well was intriguing.

Arch wrapped his arm around me as we entered the club, not in any sort of protective manner, but to make others aware that I was his. I hardly noticed the meaning of his touch, so enthralled with the atmosphere was I. The bass thundered throughout, the energetic beat resounding off the floors and pounding in my blood. Artificial flames flicked up the sides of the entryway, burning but not burning the walls around us. Scantily clad dancers seemed to hover in the air, their movements artful and serene, lithe bodies gracing the narrow platforms.

I suddenly understood why Arch lusted after the dancers, tempted by their exotic beauty and blatant sensuality. I briefly imagined myself as one of them, desired by men, powerful in my control, curvaceous body beneath my skin. I let the moment pass, knowing that it would never be and to dwell on such things only brought misery. I looked down at my meager curves with resignation, wishing that my body would grow and conform to the demands of my desires. As youth demanded, such juvenile fantasies dominated my waking hours.

Our party was led through the walkways and onto the balconies, the flames growing ever higher as we ascended. The top tier was virtually blazing, artificial flames licking the ceiling. Arch released his hold on me, and engaged in discussion with his guard regarding his security concerns, no doubt. I wandered to the side by the railing, peering over the edge and admiring the dancers below. From this height, it looked as if they were swimming in a sea of light.

Before I realized, Arch was once more beside me, his vision directed toward the women who held my attention rapt. I saw a flicker of humor cross his face as his eyes crinkled almost merrily, and he placed my hand in his.

"Sit, my dear. The meeting is about to start and I would like you to join me."

I dragged my attention away from the visual intoxication below and met the dark glittering of his eyes. He had recognized my curiosity, but was in no mood to entertain it. Instead I obeyed, acknowledging his orders and fulfilling his requests. I was, however, unprepared to meet face to face with the pirate queen of Omega itself, although I did not learn of her "title" until much later.

Compared to what I had witnessed in vids, Aria wasn't the most beautiful woman that I had ever seen. Her eyes were close set, too piercing to invite casual attraction. The curve of her jaw was rounded, undefined, and lacking in dimension. However, despite her less exotic appearance, she was the most enticing being that I had ever encountered. Power drifted off her body in waves, knowledge, intelligence, control. She was incredibly alluring, and I raked my eyes over her form, pausing with interest on the line of her neck. At the time I knew little about her and I idly wondered at her status on Omega.

Her skin was flawless, a creamy cerulean hue that begged to be caressed. I longed to trace my fingers down that perfect skin, to inhale the scent as I buried my face in her flesh. Never before had I been drawn to anyone, pulled in such a powerful manner by the sheer force of their presence.

I looked away, wrenching my attention from her body and the delights it held, focusing instead on my own sad reality. Arch ignored me during the meeting and it did not take me long to realize I was there for decoration. He wanted to show me off, a young prize to garner attention from his fellows. Of course, I don't think even he expected Aria to take an interest in my presence.

They had finished negotiating terms and had the celebratory round of drinks delivered, Arch ordering his guard to check for contaminants in the liquor. I looked up as Aria stood to leave, catching the faint hint of humor on her lips. She could have them killed at any time. It was her club, after all. To think that Arch would be paranoid about poisons at this stage in the game was, from what I could tell by her expression, amusing.

Warmth suffused my body as her lips curled slightly upward, the shadow of a dimple on her cheek begging for my caress. Before I could remove my desperate gaze she turned her attention toward me, eyes sharp and penetrating, taking in my dolled-up appearance. I refused to shrink beneath her gaze, knowing full well that I was but a child in a woman's costume. Against my better judgment I brazenly met her eyes, forcing myself to withstand the power of her attention.

Once more her lips quirked slightly upward. For a fleeting second I recognized something familiar in her, and then the blanket of professionalism fell, her mirth gone. She turned to Arch, lilting voice suggesting nothing more than a passing, casual interest in my person. Arch minimized my presence by his side, stating that I was nothing more than his entertainment. Even though I hated to admit it, deep within I knew it to be the truth.

"A little young, isn't she Arch?"

An open question, carried on the strength of her voice and Arch paused in his cups. I saw him grow flustered then. Oh, it was not overtly noticeable to those not so intimately acquainted with him as I, but judging by the slight twitch of the muscle of his jaw, Arch was at a loss for words. He set his drink down, glass clinking lightly against the table top, and he had to _force_ himself to meet her eyes.

"She is mine."

Aria nodded in understanding, shooting another hot glance in my direction, eyes burrowing deeply. I saw the gears turning in her mind in that crisp moment in such a way as I had never witnessed in Arch. I like to think in that instant, she recognized something familiar in me as well.

Our gathering at the club ended rather abruptly after that. Arch tossed his head back, downed his drink and stood, pulling me along behind him. Guards surrounded us as we made our way through the mass of patrons, crowds parting for our armed entourage. I struggled to keep up, the form fitting dress causing me some difficulty in my movements, my first time in heels further hindering our flight. Arch dragged me along regardless, and luckily, the delicate fabric of my dress did not rip with the haste of our exit.

At times I had to search for things to things to appreciate, even if they might seem small and meaningless to others. Yes, luckily my dress did not rip, my heels did not break, and I was able to keep up with Arch as his anger drove him from Afterlife. I was thankful, and thanking fate, or luck, was one of few mechanisms to maintaining my sanity, lest my will be broken completely. However, my gratefulness had bounds and I was never one to thank a deity as I detested the religious scene: too many bodies dumped in the drainage pipes growing up.

We arrived at the car, gaudy gold trim sparkling with the sheen of Omega's lights, grease coating the surface of the landing pad on which we stood. Arch moved to enter the car, but stopped suddenly, considering. He opened the door and reached into the side compartment, pulling out his pair of matching pistols and his shoulder holster. Checking the ammo count on each, and then the safety, he shrugged off his jacket and pulled on the holster, tossing his coat uselessly across the car seat. He gestured to his guards.

"We're going hunting."

It had been ten years since I had wandered the streets of Omega and very little had changed in the intervening years, except that now I was in a fancy dress. Filth still lined the streets, gutters overflowing with raw sewage where the piping had burst, rusted away from years of neglect and age. Vagrants still walked its halls, mumbling, begging, stealing, although very few bothered us as we traversed the area with armed guards. Shady merchants hawked ever shadier wares, the lights of their stalls flicking wildly as the power supply fluctuated. And through it all, I stepped cautiously, careful not to get my new shoes dirty; strange, my priority at the time.

"Here," Arch announced suddenly. "This'll do."

Our group paused and I looked on in confusion as Arch unlatched his holster and pulled out one of his pistols. He cocked the hammer and aimed down the hall, firing suddenly into the distance. The shot echoed against the metal piping and I winced involuntarily against the brilliant cacophony. It buzzed in my ears even after the echo had faded, tickling my senses and dulling my thoughts. I watched as Arch stalked further down the hall and opened fire again.

Our group followed closely behind him, armed guards on edge and wary. I tried to peer over their shoulders, to see just what Arch was hunting, but their armored forms hindered my search for understanding. It wasn't until we passed the first victim that I realized what his hunting entailed. I remember later, after I asked him, he described it as "thinning out the ranks of homeless." The vagrants that lined the streets were considered as useful to him as the waste that spilled from the piping, but Arch always took pleasure where he could find it.

I wasn't shocked at the scene, not really. I had seen death when Mother and I first arrived on Omega and thereafter, but I had never been witness to a murder before. My gut twisted and I choked back a cry, knowing it would serve only to anger Arch further. I had learned the reality of Omega long ago: only the strong survive and feed off the weak. Living that reality was another matter entirely. Shame, disgust, excitement, and relief churned within me and I latched on to logic. I was not shot. I was alive. I was living in relative safety. I decided in that moment that I could stomach another's pointless death if it meant that my safety and security would remain intact. I chose to feel relief that Arch was not pointing his gun at me.

A series of shots rang throughout the halls as the activities of Omega carried on without interruption. Nobody intervened with Arch's hunting because nobody cared. Even I remained indifferent, and then grew bored, as our group followed him up and down the dank alleyways as he searched for more targets.

He turned to me after putting a bullet in another head, recognizing the lack of interest splayed across my face. It was then that he approached me with his gun, offering to show me how to use it, how to hunt with him. We stood in the middle of a dingy hallway, dressed in our finery and surrounded by poor lighting, armed guards, and rotting pipes as he gave me my first lesson in firearms. My boredom dissipated.

He stood behind me and wrapped my arms in his, cradling my hands as he positioned them on the pistol's grip. I found that I enjoyed this attention, as it was the first time ever he looked to me with interest absent his carnal desires. My appreciation for him grew in that instant, and I wanted nothing more than to please him. Together, his hands firm on mine, we squeezed the trigger and the slight kick of his pistol both exhilarated and frightened me.

He chuckled throatily at my expression, and then proceeded to instruct me on safety, aim, and general usage. He bade me practice on my own and I squeezed off a few rounds, the report resounding off the metal walls and down the hall. Excitement lit his eyes and the hunger returned, and I shrank slightly back within myself, feeling that I had somehow disappointed him.

He pulled his other pistol from its holster and our group moved forward, meandering through the alleys while Arch hunted for more targets. Prey was scarce as the vagrants had recognized death and abandoned their usual haunts. Arch grew more agitated the further we went, the halls growing more dilapidated, and he finally halted, smiling in triumph as he spied a sleeping form. He pulled me to his side and gestured to the vagrant on the ground.

I frowned at the anonymous individual, covered in filth, the stink of him permeating my nostrils and clinging to my skin. I felt dirty in his presence, as if his stench was contagious. Arch's eyes gleamed wickedly and he gestured again to the homeless being on the ground.

"Go ahead, Jin. Take a shot."

I was shocked. I had thought our gunplay was just a lesson, a new form of entertainment for Arch. I didn't expect to use those lessons any time soon, but I had been wrong many times that night. Why would this be any different?

The pistol was cool against the palm of my hand, the grip rough, catching on my skin. I felt its weight, light and small, easy to conceal, easy to carry. I grasped it firmly in both hands as Arch had taught me, lining up the sights even though it was unnecessary. My target was not more than five feet from me. Aligning the sights was merely for show, for Arch's benefit so he would know I had been listening. I fingered the trigger, hard metal scraping against my fingertips and I gradually applied pressure.

The figure before me stirred, eyes opening slightly beneath the layers of dust and decay that covered him. Blue, like the color of the oceans I imagined in my books, stared back at me from below, realization dawning in their depths. He paused, frightened, cornered, and I imagine the scene before him was incredibly surreal. I know it was for me.

Arch hissed something in my ear and my hands shook. I looked into those eyes, recognized the signature of Omega in their blue depths, and let my hands drop to my sides. I couldn't do it, and I knew I would pay the price.

I recoiled in sudden panic as Arch unloaded a clip into the homeless man before me. The intensity of the barrage was deafening as it resonated off the leaky piping and faded metal walls. I watched the vagrant crumple, the deep blue of his eyes fading as the life drained from his decrepit body. Blood pooled on the floor beneath him, trickling in a line toward the drainage pipes already overflowing with refuse. I looked to the ground as it drew near and stepped back, still mindful of my shoes.

Furious, Arch grabbed my arm and wrenched me around to face him, dark eyes seething and breath still reeking of alcohol. He slapped me with his free hand, and then again. My head whipped around wildly, wisps of hair drifting into my eyes courtesy of his punishment. I had chosen this, had chose not to obey his orders. I had known this was going to happen although the knowledge rarely prepared me. I would pay for my disobedience upon our return, and he would have plenty of time to devise new tortures on our ride home.

I had yet to master the lesson of subservience.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Bioware owns almost all.

A/N: This chapter is rated M for violent sexual content.

Chapter 4

Pain blossomed as the tender skin of my back split open, rivulets of blood trickling from my wounds. I struggled against my bindings as I knew Arch wanted me to, restraints digging into my wrists and marking me. I worked the straps, twisting and turning them to get the desired effect with minimal pain. I had learned to salvage what little self-worth I still held, especially during one of Arch's punishments. I had learned he liked the look of torment upon my skin.

He whipped me again, the thin strip of leather licking my wounds and spattering Arch's naked torso with my blood. I cried out again for his benefit, for show, the pain long ago overwhelming my senses. I had expected this after my disobedience, and prepared for it, mentally arming myself against the inevitable. It was a cruel thing to love the person who tormented me, and I did love him, if only for the kindnesses he showed me. I knew better to believe I mattered little to him at all. I was his toy, and he played with me as he saw fit.

Another _crack_ upon the air and a jolt of pain shot through my system. I could feel the scorching heat as the whip sliced into my already shredded skin, the cuts shallow, narrow, minimizing the risk of permanent damage. Arch had a masterful stroke and he in no way intended to ruin his plaything, plying my skin with cheap medigel between punishments. Sometimes I liked to pretend that he was doing it for my benefit, rather than his own.

He leaned over my form, eyes gleaming darkly, chest heaving with exertion. Sweat and blood trickled down his torso, soaking into the waistband of his trousers. He undid the leather straps binding my wrists and shoved me onto the nearby bench, bending my body against the weathered upholstery. He took me from behind, vigorous in his attentions, thorough in his satisfaction, leaving me a crumpled mess on the floor.

He cleaned himself off with one of his many plush towels, black and velvety smooth against his skin. He tossed it my way almost as an afterthought, a small mercy; and I wiped his attentions from my skin. I would have to wait, however, for the pain in my back to ease until Arch was ready. Thankfully, he was quick to recognize the damage he had done, and slathered the cool, medicated cream on my gashes. I laid flat on the bed and let him, exhausted both mentally and physically. I thought of Aria and wondered.

O o O o O o O

I was curled up on his couch when he came in the next morning, a soft blanket wrapped around my body while I devoured one of the many books he had bought me: a study on salarian culture and customs. My back ached at the sight of him, but I forced a smile to my face. He thrust a bouquet of flowers toward me, an almost sheepish look on his face. I looked at him curiously as he had never before even spoken of flowers.

Tentative, I rose, untangling my limbs from the blanket and accepting his offer. I was unsure of his intentions and I prepared myself for the worst. Normally Arch waited until my body had healed before roughing me up again. Painting on an already worn canvas held little appeal for him.

"Thank you." I forced the words past my lips, as light and endearing as I could stomach. Fabric caught on the tender skin of my back as I shifted and I fought to hide any sign of pain. Arch needed no reminders of last night's activities given the large bouquet in my grasp.

He gestured to a small alcove off the bedroom's entryway at a cheap vase that had once belonged to his dead wife. I smiled sweetly and understanding, moved to fill the vase with water and placed the arrangement in a prominent location. I recognized that if Arch was going to spend his credits on something beautiful, he wanted to show it off.

He embraced me before leaving again, pulling me tightly to him, careful of my healing body. I could smell his scent, rich and musky, a hint of the sweet cigars he occasionally smoked. He nuzzled my neck, kissing it as lightly and as easily as if he were whipping me. I suppressed a wince as he squeezed me once more, exiting his abode and returning to work. I watched him go, my skin on fire, wishing only to share such tender moments with him.

I curled back onto the cushions, sinking into the soft fabric, and wrapped the blanket around me once more. Picking up where I had left off, I resumed my study of salarian cultures, intrigued by their customs so similar in many ways to those of humans. The book touched on the formation of the Special Tasks Group and the history behind it. I marveled that such a species could find strength in subtlety and anonymity, and yet the STG was widely renowned for their ability. It was not only the material presented to me that I found interesting, but what was omitted as well.

I soaked up the information like a sponge, drinking in the knowledge of customs and cultures so very different from my own. Normally, anyone on Omega would have the opportunity to interact with a variety of species and grow familiar with their cultures and customs. I, however, lacked that opportunity, locked away in Arch's apartments as I was. I had to live vicariously through literature, imagining a myriad of possibilities which lingered just beyond my reach.

My back itched, and I looked with irritation at the empty glass on the table top. Reluctantly, I set my book aside and exited the room, padding softly down the hall to the kitchen. A fresh pitcher of tea had been brewed, a favorite of Arch's, and I had acquired a taste for it. The scent drifted on the air, and I moved toward it as if mesmerized.

A muffled yelp caught my attention and I peered around the corner. Lying on the hall floor was a young girl, a new slave according to memory, her hand gripping her side. An older woman dressed in servant's clothing loomed over her and I fought back the dark memories that surfaced. Nobody had helped me when I lay bruised and broken on the floor. No one thought to put a stop to it. I had to make my own way, and so should she.

I turned from the scene and entered the kitchen, pushing the familiar image from my mind. The slave girl would either learn to stand up for herself or not. My interference would serve only to anger the household staff, ultimately worsening her situation. It was no business of mine.

Ice tinkled against the glass lightly, cracking with the change in temperature as I poured the tea, the amber liquid frothing against the chill. I popped one of the pills Arch bought for me, hoping it would work fast to decrease my pain, and I thought of the new slave girl. I could still hear her muffled sobs as I exited the kitchen, crossing the hall toward Arch's rooms. The older woman had disappeared down the hall, most likely eager to be away from the notice of Arch's pet. I paused in my steps and handed her a pain pill to ease her discomfort.

She looked up at me with trepidation, sad eyes brimming with tears. I frowned, and remember thinking that she was unlikely to last long with that sort of hopeless desperation in her face. The household staff would pounce on her weakness and torment her until she broke. From the look of her withered body, she did not have long. I moved away, distancing myself from that sad, small figure, and returned to my reading. A new book on Council politics awaited my study.

My escape was interrupted as I heard a familiar voice in the hall. My feet refused to move forward and I plastered my body against the wall, textured paneling cool against my face. I held my breath and willed my heart to stop pounding, certain the palpitations could be heard across the room, but the voice continued unabated. One of the household staff had thought to torture the slave girl, a young woman with only one eye.

The girl grunted softly and I heard the familiar sound of a swift kick to the gut, my own clenching at the familiar sensation. The one-eyed woman proceeded to chastise the younger for imagined trespasses, insults to her and other staff. She berated her mercilessly, reprimands punctuated by the occasional impact of flesh. I felt my interest wane and turned to leave when I heard the woman say my mother's name.

"You're no better than that whore and her daughter," another kick, muffled by worn rags. "You think your worthless hide can beg her favor? Take her place, like she did? Like her mother did?"

The girl wept, crawling along the floor as if trying to burrow in it. The young woman crouched down, wrenching the slave's head to the side and I saw her eyes go wide with fright.

"You want to be his whore, just like she is. Just like her mother. You want to end up dead too, hunh?"

I barely heard the sound her of head as it was slammed against the ground. The slave mewled pathetically, unwilling or unable to fight back. Either way, the damage was done. The young woman left her a whimpering heap on the floor, slithering along the cheap tiling to nowhere.

I stayed motionless until the young woman left, my mind reeling from her words. I doubt she knew I was within earshot. It was rare for staff to beat the slaves in the presence of their masters. Arch would see it as mishandling his property, and the servants were wise enough not to earn his ire.

She had mentioned my mother and called her Arch's whore. I frowned as I peeled my body off the wall and returned to his rooms. The table top clinked lightly as I set my glass down and sunk into the couch. The books remained untouched and the blanket piled beside me, disregarded as my thoughts orbited around the faded memory of Mother's face.

"_Just like her mother."_

From anyone else I would have considered the statement a compliment, but I knew what I was to Arch. The possibility that he had used Mother in the same fashion was nauseating. I racked my brain, sifting through memory like grains of sand, each one almost identical to the next. I could recall her warmth, her kindness, how the scent of her perfume lingered even after she had left our tiny abode. The image of her face had faded from my mind, but I remembered the brilliant green of her eyes and how they crinkled in delight.

She had been the one to seek out Arch's help, or at least that was what I remembered. Never before had I considered the terms of her agreement with him, and as if arriving on a foul wind, my understanding dawned. Arch was no philanthropist. Everything he did, he did for gain. Mother and I had no money, nothing of physical value; nothing save our bodies. It was in that moment that I realized why I had been taken into his household. Mother had struck a bargain and flesh had been our currency.

I waited for him to return home that evening. My books remained untouched save for one: the History of Omega. I whittled away the hours, forced my mind to concentrate on the material before me, but it refused. Always Mother's face was in the forefront of my mind, drifting endlessly amidst the despicable consistency of Arch's passions. I had no doubt that he had used her as his plaything, but I did not know what other purposes she served. I needed to ask him regardless of the consequences. I needed to know.

He simply blinked when I posed my question, his body reeking of a sweet cigar. Ignoring me for the moment he filled a snifter with imported brandy, the delicate decanter sparkling in the light. Tracing a path across the room he turned his back to me, his gaze fixed out the window to the stars beyond. It was a pose I was familiar with.

Arch woke every morning and stared out that window, as if he envied the stars their domain and plotted to overthrow them. Often I would wake to see a gleam in his eyes, only to have him notice my attention before his face closed over. It was a routine as certain as the cycles of Omega, and as Arch was a man of habit, my question was an unwelcome interruption in his usual pattern.

He sipped on his brandy and turned slowly from the window to regard me. I was perched on the couch, blanket folded neatly to the side, my current book out of sight. I wore the most innocent expression I could muster upon my face, and willed away the fear that crept up my spine. He eyed me, sized me up as if trying to decipher any ulterior motives behind my simple question. Dark eyes glittered with intelligence and he stiffened.

"What have you heard, Jin?"

I explained about the incident in the hallway, purposefully omitting the unnecessary bits. Arch did not need to know I showed kindness to a slave. He studied me a moment longer then seemed to relax, satisfied that my simple answer held no hidden motives. Finishing the last of his brandy he sunk into the cushions beside me and placed a warm hand on my leg.

"Your mother was special to me, Jin." He started, and I marveled at the kindness in his voice. "We had something special and she was willing to help me in any way that she could, even if it meant leaving me for other men."

He paused in his explanation as I'm sure he recognized the bewilderment on my face. Mother was involved with other men?

"She was a desirable woman, Jin, just like you are. Some of my associates found her attractive and by satisfying them she assisted me with my work."

I ignored the sickness churning in my gut, nodded numbly, and forced a sweet smile of understanding on my lips. Lies, bitter and demeaning spilled out of his mouth as he praised my mother and her dedication to him. He continued on, ignorant of my blossoming awareness, and believed all the while that my simple innocence accepted his words without hesitation. In that moment, I made it my goal to accelerate my studies, starting with my book on the STG. I would learn subtlety.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Bioware owns some.

A/N: Thanks to my beta, drakontion, for her help and to everyone following along. This chapter is rated M for violence and sexual content.

Chapter 5

The days followed with little variation in the usual routine. I kept to myself, devouring every kernel of knowledge I could find. The pile of unread books slowly dwindled and I contented myself with studying the basics of biology and chemistry. Much to my surprise, I took an immediate interest and fed my burgeoning fascination.

At night I attended Arch's desires to the best of my ability. He was careful not to injure me further and restrained his more violent passions. He nuzzled my neck, tracing his fingers down my body and sending shivers through my system. His touch was gentle, surprisingly careful, and it was intimacy such as this that I learned to despise. It was another form of his torments, albeit a pleasant one.

I remember clearly the second night he took me out of the apartments. Arch was stalking restlessly through the halls, upset at some mistake one of his subordinates had committed. He paced up and down the corridors, snapping at the servants and berating the guards. I watched him for a time, observed his anger, and waited for its volatility to dissipate. I had time enough to spare, although I did not want to risk attracting his ire before he was able to burn it off.

He stalked into the bedroom and marched to the bar. Roughly, he grasped the decanter and poured himself a brandy, the smooth amber liquid sloshing into a snifter. Arch tossed back his head and downed it swiftly, immediately pouring himself another. He sunk into the couch cushions next to me and frowned, brow creased as his dark eyes smouldered.

I set my book aside as I recognized opportunity. The tension in his body was present, but I knew by the time he finished his second glass Arch would be receptive to suggestion, and I might not have to endure another night of his attentions before my body had fully recovered.

"Perhaps a night out would help?"

He turned to me, dark eyes gleaming as they narrowed. I had to step cautiously lest his anger explode once more. Choosing my words carefully, I continued.

"I remember you used to hunt vorcha when you first took me in. You have not been hunting in some time now, unless I'm mistaken?"

I held my breath and awaited his reply, knowing full well what I was asking. If he disagreed with my suggestion or thought me intrusive, I would pay the price for my trespass. However, if he liked the idea, I might be allowed to accompany him. It was a risk I was willing to take.

Arch studied me, a thoughtful glint in his eyes. He sipped on his brandy and considered. I could see the gears turning in his mind by the firm set of his jaw, the absence of focus in his gaze. Finishing his second glass of brandy he turned once more to me and nodded.

"How would you like to come with me?"

I smiled sweetly up at him and inwardly congratulated myself on a successful gamble. "Let me get my shoes."

There was no set day or night cycle to Omega. Shops were open for business around the clock, the shipping and smuggling lanes funneling in wares regardless of the time. The hours of Omega's industries paralleled those of the clubs, facilitating both the gain and loss of credits in one fell swoop. Newcomers to Omega would be taken by its exotic façade, by the bustling activity and exchange of currency, only to realize they had celebrated away their newfound fortunes. Many a tale ended on the street or in the gutter.

We left the safety and comfort of his housing complex for those same bright lights and dark gutters, braving the grit and grime of the alleyways. As always, armed guards accompanied us, and I pretended to relax in the comfort of the car while my adrenaline pumped wildly. I had acquired a taste for the outside during my last outing and I reveled in the chance to feel it anew.

Arch recognized my excitement and pulled me close, squeezing my shoulders against his sturdy form, his own excitement sparkling in his eyes. An anticipatory smile creased his face, and he reached for his pistols. Despite his taste in transportation, Arch had lovely taste in weaponry. His pistols were small for a man of his size, yet still packed enough of a punch to jar my wiry frame. The magazines were light and almost delicate, able to hold close to twenty small caliber, piercing rounds. He told me once he preferred penetration to power, accuracy to blunt force. In his ego, Arch sometimes fancied himself an artist.

We descended to the lower levels, the garish glow of the traffic lanes lighting our way. The landing pad slowly came into view, personal cabs veering sideways to avoid our steady approach. I bounced on the seat as we touched down, a rougher landing than the last, but still my excitement swelled. We were out and I longed to feel different air upon my face.

Arch stepped out and shouldered his holster, buckling the straps with nimble fingers while the driver opened the door on my side. The driver extended his arm to offer assistance. His hand was smooth from lack of hard labor and I took it without hesitation. His job fulfilled, the driver returned to his seat in the car and waited on Arch's pleasure. I briefly wondered if he served any other purpose, then realized it didn't matter, and took my place at Arch's side.

As they had during our previous outing, the guards kept a wary eye on threats to their employer. It was unsurprising as their continued employment depended upon his safety. They maintained a secure perimeter, one of the men scouting ahead to search for targets. He radioed back within minutes and our hunting party was off, working to thin the ranks of the vorcha menace.

Arch went ahead with two more of his guards and left me with the bulk of our escort. I didn't mind and basked in the tiny taste of freedom I enjoyed. Despite the confines of the alleyway, I did not feel caged; much the opposite. The walls of the apartments were no longer crowding me and Arch was off to parts unknown. It was enough to send my imagination soaring, at least for a little while. My grand imaginings were cut short, however, when I heard Arch's return.

He was doubled over and breathing heavily, exhilaration in his eyes. The two guards followed slightly behind him, slowing so that his weakness would not be overtly noticeable. I approached, slipping through the ranks of the guards, concern and curiosity on my lips.

"Arch?" I asked carefully. I did not want him to believe I thought him weak, but neither did I want to ignore him. "I think I may be getting tired. Shall we go home now?"

He shook his head and straightened, eyes still gleaming darkly. "Here," he shoved one of his guns in my hand. "Do you remember how to use it?"

I nodded and pushed the memory of the blue-eyed vagrant from my mind. How could I forget the feel of a pistol after that night?

"Good." He gestured down the alley. "Squeeze off a few rounds."

I did as requested and gripped the pistol firmly, squeezing the trigger as the blood pounded in my ears. The report echoed down the hall, swirling in, out, and around us. I saw a smile crease Arch's lips and fired again, knowing that it pleased him. I emptied the clip as I aimed at nothing and Arch watched me hungrily.

He moved behind me, adjusting my stance as he nudged my legs with his own. He told me I needed to improve my posture when firing, improve my aim. I obliged and allowed him to coach me. Arch ejected the empty clip and instructed me on how to load another one. He pressed it into my palm and showed me how, and although I was intrigued, I worried that I would damage the seemingly delicate clip.

His laugh was deep and rich and I saw the hunger burn in his eyes. I would have questioned the wisdom to hunt with Arch, save that my excited blood was throbbing as well. I had discovered very few pleasures in my life, and I realized I wanted this. I wanted my fingers wrapped around a gun, to feel the cold metal of it warm to my touch. I wanted to experience its kick, the heat of discharge as I let loose a round. I finally understood why he loved his pistols so much, and I found that I did too.

He pulled me against him as I squeezed off the last round, his arousal pressing against my back. My blood boiled and heat surged within me, but as I turned to face him, I recognized Arch's eyes held more than hunger. He was not quite finished with his hunt.

"Come with me, Jin." He ordered in a throaty voice.

I gathered my wits and did as commanded, the coterie of guards following in our wake. We trailed a winding path through the sublevels of Omega, twisting and turning around the grime. Smatterings of homeless were occasionally visible through the rubbish, but many were skittish of our presence, and for that I could not blame them.

The stench of vorcha permeated the air, and Arch and I moved through the waste toward a balcony, which overlooked a massive trash pile below. He gestured to his guards and they fanned out in all directions, hurriedly securing the perimeter. Arch pulled his jacket tight, wary of the grime, and crouched down next to the scout. They exchanged hushed words before Arch stood again, his eyes virtually glowing with anticipation.

"Over here, Jin. Stay with me."

We crouched next to the balcony's railing, careful to remain unnoticed. I watched as Arch loaded his pistol, the black of his gun almost invisible against the black of his suit. Dark eyes glittered back at me and as my thoughts drifted to the unarmed vorcha, I realized what I had done.

The group opened fire at once, multiple rounds shredding the vorcha nesting below us. Arch stood and emptied a clip into the fray. I could almost swear he was laughing in his excitement except Arch rarely laughed. He reloaded and fired again, only pausing in the mayhem when he realized I had not joined him

"Take a shot, Jin. Go ahead." He squeezed off another few rounds. "They're nothing but animals. Come on."

He pulled me up and helped me aim. I had no choice. I had to fire and so I did. The pistol warmed to my touch as it discharged, kicking slightly against the force of the round. I felt the blood pound in my ears, barely audible over the din of gunfire. Death floated on the air and I watched the vorcha scurry for cover. I mowed them down as did the rest of our party, Arch's satisfaction written plain on his face. My bloodthirstiness had pleased him, and as the adrenaline pumping through my body slowed, dire realization dawned on me: I had enjoyed it as well.

He took me in the car and I had wanted him to. I ached to feel him inside me, to feel the pounding of the blood in my veins once more. I craved the warmth of his pistol in my hands, the wave of adrenaline pulsating throughout my body so fast and so furious as to encompass ecstasy itself. I rode him hard, body straining against the urge to give myself over to him completely. And then, in a burst of euphoria, I did.

He took me again in his bed, his appetite unfulfilled by our short coupling in the car. His touch was methodical, teasing and deliciously torturous in its intensity, and I writhed beneath him, wanton and ready. Adrenaline surged within my body once more and the memory of the night's events only served to heighten my pleasure. I wanted as I had never wanted before, and to me, Arch was a means to an end.

He slept well that night, cradling my small body in his arms as he snored softly. I lay awake for a time watching him, amused by the serenity of his face. Gone were the concerns of the day, the constant desires and greed that drove him. In its place was the face of a man, simple yet dangerous in its beauty. He had sated his own pleasures that night, and in doing so, fulfilled those of mine I had not yet come to fully realize. I decided then to learn from him and to become more that what I was. No longer would I simply be Arch's whore. I would gain control. I would be Jin.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Bioware owns almost all.

A/N: This chapter was actually fairly difficult for me to write. It is rated MA for language, violence, and sexual content.

Chapter 6

Brulin Ton was a slaver whose appetite for both flesh and food was renowned throughout the Terminus. His name was synonymous with greed and gluttony and his dealings with various merc bands were shady at best. Ton was well known for his keen mind. It was said that he could out-volus any accountant and make a profit off vorcha piss. He was an incredibly dangerous man and Arch had scheduled a meeting with him.

As before, Arch bought the services of the local stylists and transformed me into a ravishing picture of beauty. A new dress, black and slinky, hung from his wardrobe and his face lit up with desire as I modeled it for him. Time enough had passed that seamstresses were no longer needed to alter the fit. I had grown into a woman with all the curves and passions that lie within.

I expected the meeting to proceed along a similar course as it had when he met with Aria, and my expectations were not disappointed. However we did not go to Afterlife. It would not do to host a meeting on another's home turf. Instead, Arch arranged for the meeting to take place in one of his warehouses with entertainment to follow at a nearby club. He attended the meeting without me, leaving me to fend for myself at the club. I loved it.

He had set a guard on me to secure my safety while on my own. I reveled in the minute amount of freedom given me and attempted to work the room as I had seen the asari dancers do. I noticed little effect, but at the time, I did not yet know what to look for.

Few heads turned as I made my way to the bar, the fabric of the dress clinging to my form as if it were sopping wet. I enjoyed the feel of it, how it seemed to slither against my skin, extremely sensual yet surprisingly comfortable. I had to resist the urge to laugh as the bartender gaped at me and covered my amusement by ordering a drink. He poured a measure of brandy, a brand I knew Arch favored, and started a tab under his name.

I remained at our private booth, hidden in the shadows and observing the goings on. The brandy burned as I sipped it, warming my body as it went down. My head grew light and the bass of the club pounded in my veins. Although it was a pleasant feeling, I stopped after one glass. I did not share Arch's love for the stuff.

He arrived an hour later as the energies of the club peaked. Patrons thronged through the doors while the dancers took to the stage. The heady scent of flesh and sweat permeated the air, thick and titillating. Arch took one look at me and smiled hungrily, his dark eyes sparkling with what I presumed was the success of his meeting. I returned his smile as best I could, my excitement fading as I saw Ton and his entourage emerge from behind him.

Arch slid into the booth beside me, a snifter of brandy already in hand. He leaned in for a kiss, rich and dark as the amber liquid in his cup. I returned his attentions as I had been trained, knowing Arch acted only partly for show. As he broke our kiss I saw Ton's eyes drift over my figure, raking in the shape of my body. My dress left very little to the imagination after all, which had been Arch's intent.

Arch noticed as well and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. I shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore the heat of Ton's obvious gaze. Arch placed a hot hand on my leg, grasping me as if to protect his property, but the grin spreading across his face said otherwise.

"She's quite something, isn't she Ton?"

The plump man nodded, his eyes lingering on my breasts. "Quite so, Arch. Where did you find her?"

I felt his fingers dig into my skin and took a deep breath to compose myself. It would not do to yelp like a child in front of company. He traced a formless pattern with his thumb as if contemplating an answer. Arch opened his mouth as if to speak, but paused as a group of scantily clad servers approached with drinks. He waved his hand in a sweeping gesture, inviting Ton to partake in the pleasures offered.

"Please, enjoy yourself tonight. Business is completed and we must celebrate."

I watched Ton's eyes roam over an asari server's body, jowls quivering as he licked fat lips. He reached out, brazenly groping the server and pulling her to him. A trickle of forced laughter escaped her lips and our eyes met briefly. I understood perfectly the emotion that flashed in her gaze as I was disgusted by Ton's mere presence, but I said nothing; did nothing. I considered myself safe so long as I held Arch's attentions. Ton would not dare trespass on his property.

Arch's grin widened and he held up his snifter in a toast before drinking deeply to cover his satisfaction. I studied his movements, observing the tension slowly drain from his body. His grip never wandered far from my legs, but never did he block Ton's view of my more desirable assets. It was hard to miss the lust in Ton's eyes, his lecherous gaze never straying far from my person. A feeling of unease stirred within my body and I longed to escape his attentions.

Another round of drinks arrived, accompanied by a trio of asari dancers. They took up positions in the small nooks of our booth, the up-lighting from the tiny stages highlighting the overt eroticism of their movements. I used the distraction to excuse myself, extracting my body from Arch's grasp and making my way out of the booth. With something akin to relief, I crossed the club and entered the ladies' room, relaxing and taking a moment to steady myself.

The bass thundered against the walls, muffled rhythms vibrating the floors. I studied my reflection in the mirror, ignoring the other women in the room as they passed curiously by. My face was flushed from the heat and I wiped my brow. The cool was soothing and it worked well to calm my nerves. I breathed deeply once more, ignoring the odd mix of scents wafting through the air, and gathered my wits. I would need to be fully composed once I returned. It would not do to misstep and anger Arch, not in front of a business associate.

I took one last deep breath and left the ladies' room, weaving through the anonymous patrons and making my way to the bar. I was in need of a drink and had no intention of waiting for another server. The bartender saw me immediately. He fulfilled my request and slid an amber beverage toward me. I nodded in thanks and brought the glass to my lips when I felt hands upon my body. I turned to find Ton next to me, his fat fingers playing with the straps of my dress.

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and attempted to step away, but he pulled me close. His breath was foul and hot against my neck, and the hunger in his eyes still burned even now. Disgust blossomed in my core and radiated outward accompanied by shivers of fear. I had to step carefully lest I damage the deal Arch had brokered with this man.

"Excuse me," I said sweetly, the bitter taste of false niceties souring my mouth. "But I must get back to Arch."

His jowls quivered with hearty laughter and he pulled me even closer. "Dance with me."

It took me a moment to register his demand amidst the cacophony surrounding us and even longer to realize he was serious. He gripped my hand in his sweaty palm and pulled me behind him. My mind worked furiously, gauging his strength, scouring my memory for any tidbit of information I had on him. Never had I expected to dance with anybody, not even Arch. It was an eventuality I had not prepared for. I did not know how to dance.

The beat changed slightly as he dragged me onto the dance floor, pushing through the crowd to the center. The space our path had generated quickly closed over and we were swallowed by a sea of flesh. He pressed his body against mine, his hands firmly placed on my backside. I did my best to follow his lead, sipping on my beverage to hide my disgust. Perhaps he would realize I could not dance and tire of me, but as he continued to grope me like an animal in heat, I knew this would not be the case. I would have to suffer the man's nauseating presence until I found a way to escape.

He swayed almost drunkenly to the music, pulling me with him as he rocked to and fro. I downed the rest of my drink, the burning liquid a welcome distraction as he continued to paw at me. The bass pounded in my blood while a mix of anger and disgust brewed in my veins. I decided that I had had enough when he reached under my dress and attempted to grope me anew.

I tried to push him away, but had underestimated his strength. His eyes darkened with anger and he tightened his grip on me, within me, squeezing sensitive flesh until my eyes filled with unshed tears. His lips curled in an almost feral smile and I felt the measure of his excitement against my leg. He strengthened his grip and my cry of pain was lost in the blaring music. I felt his lips against my skin as he tasted the flesh of my neck, the thick stench of his breath turning my stomach.

In my torment an idea began to take shape and I closed my mouth against the pain Ton inflicted. It would not be wise of him to damage Arch's property, no matter how powerful he believed himself to be. I also knew that Arch never liked his prizes taken without permission, and that also included me.

"Arch will be looking for me," I rasped into his ear. Ton grunted in response, my statement doing nothing to dissuade his appetite. "He is protective of his property and takes great insult if it is mishandled. It would be wise of you to release me now."

His teeth grazed my neck and alarm flared in my bones. Fingers traced a path up my dress, slipping under the light fabric and teasing a nipple until it stood erect. Shame coursed through my veins and I tried to pull away from him once again, but with little success. I pushed his hand down forcefully and heard the scratch of fabric as my dress ripped.

"I said _release_ me. Now!"

A wave of anger swept over his face and he raised a hand as if to strike me. I met his eyes with ferocity in my own, daring him, part of me aching for him to hit me. He stilled and I could see his mind working as he weighed his options. Brulin Ton had not gotten to where he was by being impulsive. He would not take any action that could endanger his profits.

He released his grip on me and dropped his hand, anger seething just beneath the surface of his greasy skin. I backed away, ignoring the complaints of the patrons surrounding me, unwilling to turn my back on him. It was only after the crowds closed over again that I turned from his direction and forced my way back to Arch's booth. I had no way to explain my absence other than the truth.

Arch was angry and contemplated his snifter as he swirled the remnants of his brandy. My return to the booth was far past overdue and I could see the fires blazing in his eyes. He grabbed my arm and pulled me down beside him, the upholstery of the booth squeaking as he did so. I started to explain but he pressed his hand to my mouth, halting my explanation before I had even begun. It was then that he noticed the tear in my dress.

His eyes traced a line down my body, noting the stretched fabric and frayed seams. He toyed with the tear, the heat of his touch scorching against my skin. Guilt and anger warred within me, but I held my emotions under control, silently cursing my stupidity for leaving in the first place.

"Ton?"

The single word fell from his lips as if a stone. I nodded, even though he already knew the truth. My confirmation was only for his benefit. He stood suddenly and approached his guard. They shared hushed words, Arch's stance rigid, his voice strained. Once again he gripped my arm and pulled me along behind him, pushing past the club's patrons as the guards hurried to keep up. Arch was furious, but at whom was the question.

It didn't matter, not really. His anger was directed at me and I bore the brunt of it that night. Upon arriving home he practically threw me into the bedroom and shred the dress I wore. He tore it off my body with such strength, such deep-seated malice that my first instinct was to run. Never before had I witnessed anger such as this and my attempts to calm him only served to darken his mood.

He beat me that night, not for simple pain or pleasure, but because I believe he was jealous. Arch would not risk confronting Ton, not after brokering a lucrative business deal. No, in his mind, _I _was to blame for Ton's indiscretions and would suffer accordingly.

He wrapped the leather bindings tight enough to cut into the sensitive flesh of my wrists. My legs, which he rarely bound, were secured with studded cuffs, the metal nubs grinding against my ankles. Arch did not opt for his usual implements and left his favorite floggers and whips in the drawer, unused. Instead, he chose the one tool I had always feared. My jealous lover approached me from behind, a gilded blade in his hand.

He did not cut me at first, but teased me, tracing the cool handle along my skin. From the look in his eyes he found my fear intoxicating while I found it immobilizing. I fought for control of my emotions, steadying my breath, relaxing my body. However, I soon realized that everything I had learned about Arch's passions was worthless that night.

My heart melted when he cut me, the blade so sharp I barely noticed it at first. Pain trickled like the blood down my back and Arch carved a masterpiece in my flesh. I know not how long it went on, only that he had to revive me at one point during the night. It was then that he finally untied my bindings and only then I saw the barest hint of sorrow in his eyes.

I vaguely remember being carried to the bed and the cool feeling of medigel as it seeped into my wounds. His shadow loomed over me, the sheen of sweat on his chest as he breathed heavily from exertion. I drifted in and out of consciousness, waking only one time to see him standing before his window. I found the familiar pose oddly comforting despite the embers of pain on my skin.

I must have made a small noise for he turned toward me, an unrecognizable look on his face. The sound of soft footsteps whispered in my ears and the bed shifted as he sat down beside me. Hair tickled my brow as he brushed it from my eyes and replaced it with a gentle kiss. It was then that blessed darkness claimed me once more.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Bioware owns almost all.

Chapter 7

Arch allowed me a reprieve from my usual duties in order to heal. I lounged in bed the following days, my body racked with pain. I continued to read, the damage to my flesh allowing me to do aught else. Arch treated me well and sat with me at times while I watched his selection of vids. More often than not, though, he left me to my own devices, occasionally treating my healing wounds with a dose of medigel. I found his touch awkward and irritating and lied about my pain so as not to endure his attentions. I would be scarred, but it mattered little to me at the time.

I was slowly driven to distraction after finishing the last of my books, hungry for more knowledge and loathing its absence. Arch surprised me one day with a new gadget, a custom omni-tool he had designed especially for me. I was hesitant at first and still questioned his motives. I knew it was to make up for the beating I had endured, but I forced a sweet smile and accepted it nonetheless. It would be a useful tool for feeding my addiction to the written word.

My attempts were awkward at first, the new device foreign and unfamiliar to me. I had only read about omni-tools and had occasion to witness Arch use his, although I never understood the inner workings of the minute instrument, and I muddled through the instructions with difficulty. It took me some time to get acquainted with the feel of it on my hand, the holographic projection alien on my arm. I was tempted to set it aside permanently after a particularly trying day, but given my lack of entertainment, I retained my resolve. I would master the evil device and make it my own.

It was a day when my back throbbed that I experienced a technological revelation. Arch was out, presumably working to increase his fortunes, and I found myself in desperate need of distraction. I slipped the 'tool in place and activated it, the orange glow illuminating my arm. I glared at the holograph, willing it to cooperate with my desires, and began my search. It turned up very little.

For over an hour I braved the extranet, searching for navigation information, online protocols, anything that would allow me to work unhindered, but I found many of the sites blocked. Frustrated, I swallowed my pride and opened the help menu.

A list of techno-babble scrolled down the display and I struggled to keep up. Luck was on my side, however, as I paused the feed just in time to select the troubleshooting guide. A blessedly comprehensive list of common problems and solutions appeared onscreen, and I drank in the knowledge with relief. According to the data, my frustrations were due only partly to my incompetence as parental controls were commonly installed by my omni-tool's manufacturer. Following the directions on the display, I promptly disabled them and watched as the galaxy finally opened up to me.

With the majority of the blocks removed I soaked up the information I found on the extranet, filing away the bits of knowledge with potential for future use. I regularly browsed a number of sites, familiarizing myself with online forums and even made a few anonymous contacts. Given the simplistic nature of my technological inquiries, I'm sure my inexperience was plainly obvious, but I remained undaunted. I had developed a taste for the information available, for the varying views and opinions of others, and I was not to be thwarted by my inexpertness.

After much practice I became proficient at navigating the extranet's potential pitfalls, learned how to identify common risks of infection, and even downloaded a privacy mod which I promptly respec'd to my personal preferences. The extranet had convenient instructions and guides for nearly everything, most of it incomprehensible to me at the time.

Regardless, my studies on biology and chemistry continued apace with the help of my new omni-tool, the information piling up and soaking into my mind. Never had I realized the wealth of information the galaxy held and I lamented my gaps in knowledge. However, I decided to curb my appetites when the subject matter veered toward organically based fuel cells, the advanced formulae boggling my mind. I felt comfortable within my small realm of knowledge and did not feel the need to push myself further. Household ingredients were all my recipes necessitated.

Some days later the pain of my wounds flared anew and my thoughts wandered unrestrained. Images of Brulin Ton's sweaty hands on my skin filled my mind and I seethed with anger. I hated the fact that I had not been strong enough to push him away, to prevent such pain that he inflicted. I activated my 'tool and opened a search on self-defense. Immediately I was bombarded by a variety of images, each depicting an awkward, uncomfortable position with an individual dressed in what appeared to be pajamas. I refined my search to include information suited to more classically feminine traits, reliant on quickness and flexibility rather than strength.

Once again, a variety of images scrolled down my screen and I skimmed over each one until I came across mention of a species I had rarely heard of: drell. I perused the article, intrigued that the Illuminated Primacy was suspected of training young drell for assassinations. I dug deeper as curiosity drove me. Omega rarely saw either drell or hanar and my imagination ran rampant. I scoured the extranet for knowledge of their kind and all forms of additional information, curious as to whether the rumors of training were true.

My quest for knowledge was halted as I reached a dead end. From what I could tell, no official information on such controversial training was available, although I did find several unreliable conspiracy theories. By this time, however, I had realized the forums were useful for entertainment, as well as intelligence, the dependability of such entirely debatable.

Thwarted, I resumed my search on self-defense. I reviewed a new article and contented myself for the moment by studying ancient asari forms, unpronounceable by my tongue, which focused on centering oneself. A footnote in the article also made mention that the forms could be learned with time by the uninitiated, and were useful for enhancing flexibility, balance, and strength. I downloaded the article immediately.

Carefully, I untangled myself from the sheets and slid out of bed. My muscles ached with inactivity, but I ignored the discomfort. With slight difficulty, I synced up my omni-tool to the vid screen and ran the program. The forms were excruciating, my sore body protesting every move, but I pushed beyond the pain. I followed the lengthy series of steps, finally completing the first form after an hour of persistence. Sweat trickled down my brow as I sighed with relief. Checking my omni-tool I smiled haggardly; I only had two hundred nineteen more forms to go.

At first, Arch found my new style of entertainment amusing. He walked in the bedroom one night as I attempted to complete the second form, a mixed look of confusion and humor on his face. Much to my pleasure he proceeded to ignore me that evening. I was not so lucky the next night. Arch studied me, his eyes roaming over my body, darkness glittering in his gaze. Apparently, he assumed me well and fit because he took me that evening.

It became part of his routine after that. I would move through the forms, focusing my breath and centering myself prior to his arrival at home. If his workday ended early he would make a beeline for the bedroom, his eyes hungry as he drank in the renewed strength of my body. I could only guess at his interest, but Arch apparently approved of the forms, noting with satisfaction my increased flexibility. His attentions, while frequent, remained tender and I found myself thankful his anger had yet to resurface.

Time passed quickly in those days and I busied myself with inventive new studies. I grew accustomed to my omni-tool and tweaked it frequently, most often after perusing the advertisements for new upgrades. Although a brand new, pristine application sounded amazing, I had learned enough to apply my own personal touches and modifications. I was, however, still constrained by inconvenient blocks. It seemed that Arch desired to maintain his control over me, extending his power even to the extranet. I had designs on eliminating that control, and it was such an endeavor that led me to Arch's study.

The study was considered off limits to everyone but Arch and his personal guards, although I was able to slip in unnoticed. Arch did little to mask the entrance from the bedroom, believing that I was too broken to dare trespass on his property. Luckily for me, he believed false.

Few books lined the walls, the empty shelves dominating the study. I padded softly across the floor, careful of my step as I approached his desk. I was unsure of any security measures he had in place and scanned the layout with a new mod on my 'tool. It registered no energy spikes of note and I hoped my information was reliable. I scanned the desk again, the readings no different, and proceeded with my quest. I would get no results unless I took action.

Arch had worked late into the night the previous evening and his terminal sat in plain view atop his desk. I couldn't believe my luck and immediately grew wary. I debated for a time whether or not to continue, and upon deciding Arch could not know of my intentions, I activated the console. The display seemed bright in the dim light of the study, but I dared not alter the settings lest it give away my trespass. Entering his study was sin enough, but if I was caught trying to access his files my punishment would be severe indeed. I pushed the thought aside, and following the instructions I had downloaded, synced up my omni-tool to his terminal.

I was at a loss at first, the blinking request for Arch's access codes taunting me. I double checked the information on my 'tool and examined the directions once more. The files I needed to modify were most likely encoded and I had little idea of where to find them. However, I first needed to access said files, and without the password, I had only one option. I would have to disconnect and try my luck at a later date. Unwilling to give up, I swallowed my apprehension and went to work.

I input the first word that came to mind when I thought of Arch. In retrospect, it was not the most intelligent impulse as my feelings toward him colored my responses. I repeated the process multiple times in my persistence, the display's glaring rejection grating on my nerves until I finally paused to gather my wits. No doubt Arch thought himself of greater character than I did, and I pondered the idea while surveying his study.

It was richly decorated with the same comforts of his bedroom. A set of wingback chairs upholstered in real leather faced the elegant desk. An ornamental rug blanketed the floor, hiding the cheap tiles beneath. The bookshelves were crafted to resemble the richness of ancient oak, the grain of the wood perfectly detailed. I noticed a decidedly lonely grouping of books and moved to investigate.

The covers were worn and old, as if once read quite often then kept only as an afterthought. I smiled in delight as I recognized the titles, a distant memory floating to mind. Years ago I had made mention to Arch of this particular author, but he had questioned my interest with such vehemence that I never spoke of it again. At the time, I did not understand that it was defensiveness which prompted him, but as I placed the book carefully back on the shelf, I knew better. I returned to the terminal and typed in the password.

_Machiavelli_.

A delicious feeling of accomplishment welled up inside me as the code was accepted. I reveled in my victory for but a moment before refocusing my energies on the task at hand. Following the instructions, and with a touch of trial and error, I finally found the files I sought. Much to my surprise the files were not encoded and I heaved a sigh of relief. I had already spent far too much time deciphering the access code and I did not want to try my luck any more than I already had.

It seemed that Arch did not expect me, or anyone else, to breach his security in-home, and for once I was grateful for his ego. Making haste, I used my tool to modify the files that blocked me from certain sites, namely the more educational ones. The data transfer took no more than a minute and I marveled at the speed with which data scrolled down the display. Upon notification of completion I accessed the terminal's history and erased my presence per the instructions. The information I received had so far been accurate, and I hoped it would hold true to the end.

Disengaging my omni-tool, I switched off Arch's terminal and moved his chair back into the exact position I had found it. My adrenaline still pumping, I smiled indulgently at the success of my endeavor just as one of Arch's guards walked in on me. I froze, caught like a thief in the black market.

He stalked across the room purposefully and snatched my arm in a vise-like grip. Shock flooded my system but I was quick enough to pocket my omni-tool. He thrust his helmeted head in my face and demanded to know my purpose.

Of course I lied and claimed that I was only looking for another book to read. The guard was either very smart or very paranoid because he refused to believe me, his grip ever tightening about my arm. I professed curiosity, playing on the fact that my love of books was well known throughout the house. Still his suspicions persisted, but I did not deviate from my story. The only proof of my trespass hidden away within the modified files. One had only to recognize it and my crime would be revealed.

He shook me violently, demanding I tell him the truth. The armored guard, with his suit's strength modifications and adrenaline boosters, outweighed me by at least one hundred pounds. The force of his grip sent waves of agony down my arms. Pain blossomed behind my eyes as he shook me again, the violence of his interrogation causing my head to throb. I believed he would have tossed me like a rag doll had Arch not entered the study at that moment.

He stood, face blank at first as he realized he was not alone. Surprise, then anger darkened his countenance as his eyes took in the scene before him. I stood silently, not daring to move lest the guard or Arch rain fury down upon me. I kept my mouth closed, awaiting Arch's pleasure. The guard was not as intelligent.

"Sir." He attempted to stand at attention while maintaining his painful grip on my arm.

Arch looked from the guard back to me and I drew on all the innocence I could muster, painting a mask of sincerity upon my face, a false tear trickling down my cheek. I focused on the pain radiating down my arms, the blood pounding behind my eyes; anything to detract from the apprehension I felt welling up inside.

"What goes on here?" His tone was low, menacing, and I recognized the command in his voice. I opened my mouth as if to explain but the guard answered first.

"I found her in here, sir. Without permission."

A single eyebrow raised in query as Arch's dark eyes contemplated me. My mind worked furiously trying to formulate a response, guilt and fear bubbling to the surface. I had only one option: to play on Arch's jealousy.

"He attacked me," I blurted, the words dripping from my mouth with surprising ease. "In the bedroom. I ran in here to try to get away, but he chased me."

The guard shook me again, the anger plain in his voice. The power of his grasp increased and, for Arch's benefit, I cried out in pain. Arch was across the room before I realized it and wrenched me from the guard's grip. He called out to his personal guards and two more armored men filed into the study. He gave them instructions to remove the offending guard and turned to me. His eyes burned into mine and I barely noticed as the guards exited his study. My focus was on the hatred I saw boiling beneath his calm façade.

He stroked my face, fingers barely brushing my skin before he promptly turned to leave. I didn't follow, knowing full well I would rather not see the results of my lie. Arch confirmed my suspicions later that evening. His desire sated, he lit one of his sweet cigars, the smoke drifting lazily upon the air. I watched him for a time, curled beneath the sheets, my head pillowed on his legs. Dark eyes met mine, glittering with an intensity I rarely saw. His fingers brushed my face again, feather light touches that traced a line down my body. He paused at the new bruises on my arms and frowned.

"He won't trouble you anymore, Jin." A thin ring of smoke escaped his lips and floated almost playfully above us. "He won't ever be anything again."


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Bioware owns almost all.

A/N: Apologies for the late post. Real life has been interrupting my fictional one. This chapter is rated M for violence.

Chapter 8

"Get your shoes on, Jin. We're going out."

I did as instructed, pulled my shoes from beneath the bed and slipped them on. Quickly, I marked my place in the new chemistry book I had downloaded, and snapped off my omni-tool. Arch did not like it when my attentions were diverted from him and I did not want to lose the privilege of my 'tool. It had benefitted me in ways I hadn't even imagined.

We made haste down the hallways and out the door to where his gaudy car waited. I piled in next to him, a question on my lips. I had no idea where we were going or what he had planned. My ignorance unnerved me, although I had also learned it was not always best to know the details. I was curious as to his plans, but I knew better than to ask. Arch would tell me at his leisure if he so chose.

The seat vibrated under expensive upholstery as we took off, the field dampeners minimizing the turbulence of traffic. The car hummed softly, the sensation tickling my skin. Arch shot me a quick smile before reaching for his pistols. He handed one to me before buckling his holster, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

I did as he had taught me. I checked the safety, secured it, and put the pistol aside until we touched down. It would not do to handle a loaded weapon while we were in transit. I recognized the light in his eyes and he brushed my cheek with a soft kiss. It would have been a sweet moment, save that I realized we were en route to kill something.

As per routine, Arch got out first assisted by the driver and I followed. He adjusted the straps of his shoulder holster, securing the fit. I checked the ammo count of his pistol, and noting a full clip, secured it in my waistband. I had learned to make do without the convenience of a holster and Arch seemed to find my ingenuity amusing.

The guards had arrived before us and secured the perimeter. Arch spoke briefly with the captain of his guard, their tones low and the words unrecognizable to my ears. I contented myself with idle musings while I waited. We had landed in a lower region of Omega, one I was not familiar with. Grime traced a path through the alleyways as everywhere else on Omega, the decrepit stench of biological waste and refuse clogging my nostrils. The stink was more potent than anywhere I'd ever been, and I soon recognized why. Vorcha were nesting nearby and I suppressed a disgusted shudder.

In a futile attempt to escape the foul air I crossed the landing pad and surveyed the bland vista beyond. The countless personal transports lit up Omega's innards, doing little to distract from the garish glow of its industrial lighting. Even here, the warmth trickled down from above, the eezo mining companies working at maximum efficiency with little regard for their workers. I had heard a report of another accident in the refineries that day, but paid little heed. The refineries were known to occasionally malfunction. It was one of Arch's favorite places to stage an assassination for that very reason.

He once told me that assassination was why he had commissioned his matching pistols. Arch desired more personalized protection after an attempt on his life years ago. It had failed, of course, but he had learned a dire lesson. From then on, the two pistols went wherever he did. I pulled the small weapon from my waistband and traced the subtle pattern on the grip. It was etched lightly in black, a stylized symbol I did not recognize. I made a mental note to do a search on it when time allowed.

Arch stepped up next to me, his eyes directed toward the same bland vista I observed. We stood there for a time, the silence stretching between us. I look back and realize that it was an oddly comfortable moment between us, the kind only two people intimately familiar with each other can share. I understood him and I like to think he recognized that, even if he wasn't always the most generous of lovers. In my mind, that was our last moment of peace before everything slowly started to go awry.

He turned toward me, his somber mood dissipating, and caught my eye. I knew it was time to go. Our entourage moved through the grit of Omega's lower alleyways, twisting and turning through the grime. The thickness of the air choked me, the stink of vermin clogging my nostrils. Arch did not seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to grow even more excited the worse the stench became. I knew without a doubt what he intended and my stomach churned at the thought.

Much as I suspected, we came upon a vorcha nest, but it was nothing like I had seen before. Heaps of refuse covered the floor of an abandoned warehouse, waste spilling from the punctured pipes above. Viscous fluid dripped down upon us and a webbing of stains streaked across the walls. The nest was enormous, as was the stench. I choked again, doing my best to ignore the reek of decay permeating the air. I was moved to retch on my boots but held my urge in check. Arch would not approve of such a show of weakness.

At Arch's signal the guards fanned out. I believed them to be securing the perimeter at the time, but in reality, they were blocking the exits and sabotaging the pipes. A trio of guards stayed behind with Arch and I, monitoring the area until the others returned. Arch pulled his pistol from its holster and began pacing restlessly. I could see the energetic enthusiasm in his eyes and my gorge threatened to rise again.

We made our way onto the catwalk above, flanked on either side by the guards. Arch overlooked the trash heap below as if he was surveying his realm and readied his gun. The soft click of the pistol echoed through the space as he chambered a round. I followed suit. I knew what I had to do, but I didn't have to like it.

Smoke drifted lazily through the air as sparks ignited in the corner. The fire caught quickly and spread like a vile wind across the dank refuse. Vorcha scurried out of their nesting holes and scrambled along the piles of trash. Some were consumed in the flames and I could hear their strangled cries, gurgling in pain as their bodies melted in the heat. Chemicals spilled from the sabotaged pipes above, feeding the fire and dissolving the skin. I had never witnessed the effects of Omega's industrial wastes on flesh until that night, and I still have yet to forget the image.

Flesh slipped from bone and even the vorcha's regenerative abilities were of little use. They hissed at us, safe on our perch from the chemicals and fires, only to be swallowed by death. Desperate cries rang out, echoing across the large space until finally falling blessedly silent.

What few vorcha escaped the flames and dripping waste plunged headlong into our gunfire. Arch was near beaming with excitement, carnage and suffering heightening his amusement. I fired on the vorcha, not to please Arch, and not because I hated them. I opened fire to end their suffering. Nothing, not even vermin should be exterminated by the cruel means Arch had devised.

Vorcha scattered in all directions, searching for an escape that did not exist. Arch's men had been thorough in their duties, and not even the rotted piping was overlooked. The pistol warmed to my touch as I emptied a magazine into the fray, and I slammed in another clip fast. My adrenaline pumped, coursing wildly through my veins. I grew excited by the action, the need for survival. I felt alive and I was disgusted with myself.

The flames grew high, licking the walls and reaching toward the ceiling. The chemical fumes wafted on the air. As the cries of the damned faded amidst the blaze, Arch gestured to his guards. We made our way off the catwalk and out of the warehouse. The captain sealed the doors and activated the containment system. Omega's safety protocols would take over and vent the hold, extinguishing the fire and minimizing the chemical spill in one fell swoop. It also served to hide our indiscretions, which mattered little. No one cared about vorcha.

Arch pulled me against his body and pressed his lips to mine. His kiss was deep and heady, almost as if he longed to devour me. I gave in to his passions and answered his desires as I had been trained, stifling a cry as he pushed me roughly against a dingy wall. I was aware that his guards were watching our every move and I cringed inwardly, shame welling up within. I feared he would take me there, for all to see. Fate, however, could be kind. Or so I thought.

"Sir, we have a call coming in."

Arch paused in his movements and I stilled as well, unwilling to make a move lest it distract him. He questioned the guard, voice low and menacing, irritated that he had been interrupted in his pursuits.

"It's him."

Arch turned away from me, my body chilled by his sudden absence. I smoothed my clothing and wiped the grime from my top, looking back with disdain at the grungy wall that had been my support. I waited patiently by the car while Arch took his call, the darkness on his face lifting slightly. Apparently, he had been awaiting this particular contact, and neither I nor hunting would interfere with his plans.

He turned back toward the captain of his guard and barked out orders. We hurriedly made our way back to the car and took off without preamble. Arch stayed quiet and distant throughout the car ride. He stared nowhere, his eyes focused out the window while I awaited his pleasure. I remained still and silent, unwilling to broach the topic of our destination. Arch would tell me if he wanted me to know, and as of yet, that was not the case.

His excitement had returned, but it was not the same as on the hunt. Arch resonated with a cool confidence, an energy that I had only witnessed prior to one of his business meetings. I wondered if perhaps this was an impromptu meeting with an important and elusive client, but at the time, I could only speculate.

I had been only partially correct. We arrived at an empty cargo bay belonging to one of Arch's dummy corporations. It was filled with all manner of shipping crates and containers stacked to the ceiling. A large freighter had docked and unloaded its goods. I could see from the view in the car that it was no ordinary cargo. Slaves, filthy and ragged, had lined up just off the loading ramp, their dark collars heavy and thick against raw skin. I looked away. I didn't want to see their faces.

We touched down smoothly and Arch was out of the car before the driver had a chance to assist him. I, however, accepted his smooth hand and stepped out into the hold. It was a different scene to what I was used to, and the flicker of the bay's magnetic seals unnerved me. I was not comfortable being so close to open space with only a thin layer of technology protecting me. Granted, Omega had been known to experience the occasional explosive decompression due to neglect and decay, but I still felt relatively safe within its metal womb. The cargo bay felt too open for my liking.

I followed Arch and his guarded escort, unwilling to stay behind despite how much I wanted to. I remembered the pistol still secured in my waistband and a trickle of comfort stirred within me. The metal against my body was familiar, comfortable. I liked the feel of it.

I caught up with him as Arch was examining the stock, their pathetic rags barely covering flesh. They looked to the ground, trained to avoid eye contact; all save one. A young girl on the end of the lineup stood straight, brazenly meeting Arch's eyes. I heard a sound escape his lips resembling something akin to humor and he turned to the slaver.

"What's the story with this one?" Arch gestured to the girl on the end.

"Eh?" The batarian threw down his cigarette, crushing it beneath his booted heel before continuing. "That one's new. Hasn't been broke yet."

I saw a familiar smile crease his face, eyes alight with excitement. My heart fluttered in my chest as I studied the girl. Dark hair covered her dirty face and dark eyes peeked out from beneath long lashes. I recognized Arch's tastes instantly and a surprising hint of jealousy welled up within. I snuffed out the feeling, knowing full well I could do nothing. I could only hope Arch would bypass her in favor of tame stock. As was usual for me, hope failed.

Arch purchased the young girl and one additional slave after haggling with the batarian. I could hear their raised voices as I made my way back to the car, sick with emotional muck. As I slid onto the seat I decided I would practice patience. I would wait and see how this new slave would react to captivity. Perhaps she would be like the other one and bend to the abuse of the household staff, or perhaps not. From the look in her eyes, however, I knew she was a survivor. I knew she was like me.

He was full of energy upon his return to the car, his eyes eager with anticipation. Arch took me on the ride home, forcing his body on mine with little artistry. Our coupling was akin to the rutting of animals and it was not over soon enough for me. I was once again reminded of my place at Arch's side and it had just grown precarious. I was, for all intents and purposes, replaceable.

Patience would only get me so far. I had to make myself useful, versatile. Asari forms and vorcha hunting were activities anyone could learn. I needed to become unique. If I was going to be replaced, then I was going to be prepared.

Arch left early for work the next morning and left me to my usual devices. Little did he know what I had been researching, blind to the existence of my privacy mod, ignorant of the bug I had planted in his personal terminal. Accessing his files had become a daily habit of mine, and like Arch, I was comfortable with routine.

It was during one of my extranet searches when one of my anonymous contacts _pinged_ me. I had sent out a request for additional information on the asari forms, specifically, their practice as it related to defense. My contact had answered swiftly, as if they were already familiar with the subject matter, and linked me to an informative site. I downloaded the file and drank in the knowledge, my mind reeling with the potential possibilities. I had to try it out.

Locking the bedroom door I searched Arch's closet, excitement and fear coursing through my veins. His clothes brushed against my face and I couldn't help but inhale his scent. Involuntarily my chest ached and guilt blossomed in my gut. I pushed it down, away, ignoring the ramblings of my stupid heart and focused on my task. I smiled upon finding my goal, lifting the latch and releasing the hidden drawer beneath his wardrobe.

I stepped back and pulled the drawer fully open. I ignored the many implements stored within, memories of both pleasure and pain floating to the surface of my mind. Searching through the drawer I discovered my goal. The gilded knife had been lovingly cared for. It was in pristine condition and absent the stains of the flesh it had marred. I twirled it in my hands experimentally. From what I could tell, it was well made.

Blade in hand, I synced my omni-tool up to the vid screen. The new information merged with the old and I slid smoothly through the modified forms. The knife was cool in my palm as I moved and the warmth of satisfaction flowed through me. I smiled and decided to learn about irony.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Bioware owns almost all.

Chapter 9

The lights sparkled, dimmed only by the presence of the artificial flames licking up the walls of the entryway. Our entourage was small, Arch and I accompanied by only two other guards. He knew well that Aria did not approve of large crowds entering her establishment if they weren't spending credits. Arch was nothing if not practical, and his additional men awaited his orders outside with the long line of eager patrons.

He had bought me a new dress for the occasion, but I had learned by this time to do my hair and make-up on my own. I knew which styles pleased him and did my best to alter my usual appearance to his preferences. He seemed satisfied with the results and had barely removed his hands from my body since our arrival. I endured his attentions with practiced false grace.

Our guards pushed through the crowds to a booth and proceeded to requisition it for Arch and me. The previous patrons scurried out of our way, proving that a loaded SMG was a powerful motivator. I made myself comfortable while Arch ordered drinks. The server appeared with alacrity and remained amazingly unobtrusive. I barely noticed her presence at all, save for the clink of the glasses as she set them down.

Arch's eyes lingered on her, but his hand stayed hot on my body. I had learned to tolerate his wandering eyes, certain that I was not his only conquest; just his most regular. It was not until recently that I began to question my place at his side and my memory slid back to young slave girl. I cringed inwardly and banished the image from the forefront of my mind. Tonight was meant for fun and entertainment, not suspicion. We still had plenty of time before Arch's meeting and I wanted to make the best of it while I could.

We shared a bottle of wine that evening while Arch treated us to a private dance. He had remembered my curiosity from our last visit to Afterlife and decided to splurge. From the hunger in his eyes, it had been worth it. She was beautiful and her body exuded such sensuality as to elicit lust from even the most chaste of men. I could only hope to radiate a single iota of her sexuality, although given my position at the time, perhaps it was best I did not. I had more than enough of Arch's attentions.

The alarm on his watch caught his attention and he abruptly stood up to leave. He kissed me lightly on my brow as if I were an innocent child and extended his hand to the dancer, helping her off the small stage. He tossed me a half-hearted goodbye and left our booth, dancer in hand, for his meeting, his guard tagging along behind him. I remained, a glass of wine in my hands and looked after his trailing form. Only one guard remained and he stood as if a statue, an unmoving stone. I would find little company in him.

Instead I stood also, carefully smoothing down my dress, the material clinging to my form. I had no desire to wait idly by while there was entertainment to be had and so I left the booth, safe in the knowledge that the guard would keep it available for my return. Arch had said nothing about my continued presence and I thought to take advantage of his slight oversight. A small taste of freedom was mine to be had.

I need not look far. The view was spectacular from my vantage, and I leaned on the glowing rails overlooking the stage below. Once more I was in awe. The dancers looked as if to be swimming in a sea of light, their curvaceous forms causing an ache of both longing and envy. So enamored was I that I barely noticed the presence suddenly beside me.

"See something you like?"

Aria's question hung in the air and at first I was unsure how to respond. Should I be appreciative and applaud her on her choice of dancers? Or should I be complimentary, and imply they hold not a candle to her? My gut clenched with indecision, and in the span of a heartbeat I decided not to care. I would give her my answer, as I had no idea what she truly wanted to hear.

"Yes. They are quite fascinating."

A hint of a smile curled her lips and for an instance I feared that I had answered incorrectly. I had heard rumors of her power from Arch, what she was capable of, but actually speaking with her face to face was an experience in and of itself. I could feel her confidence radiating off her body in waves, centuries worth of intrigue and secrets filed away within a keen mind. Brazenly I met her eyes, and again, for barely an instant, I recognized a familiar glint.

"I'm impressed." The hint of her smile disappeared as she snorted with disdain. "Normally people try to flatter me any opportunity they get. You do not."

"I've no need," I blurted without thought. Blood pounded in my ears, certain that I had overstepped my bounds and readied myself for her anger. Instead, an unexpected peal of laughter trickled from her lips.

"My, my." The luscious smile graced her face again and I struggled to control the emotions running rampant within. "Perhaps you are more than Arch's plaything after all?"

I bristled at the backhanded compliment. Coming from her, the truth held more venom than I had realized and my words were out before I could warm the chill in my voice. "We are all more than what we appear."

"Indeed."

Again I recognized the glint in her eyes as she turned, eyeing me as a hunter stalks her prey. A mix of fear and excitement welled up inside and I laughed inwardly at the odd fact that _I_ had caught Aria's attention. I had yet to decide if it was either positive or negative, but in that moment, I cared little. There was nothing she could do to me that mattered. I had very little to lose.

"You're very astute for someone so young." She turned back toward the dance floor, her gaze following mine. However, I don't believe either one of us were truly watching the dancers any more. "Tell me, what is Arch to you?"

I took a sip of my wine, contemplating an answer. I had mulled over his purpose in my life on countless occasions, but it always came back to the inevitable. He was my master and I his slave. There was no handsome veil to disguise the truth and the reality of my existence sickened me still.

"My mother was indebted to Arch. I am her payment."

An inarticulate grunt escaped her full lips, but she said nothing for a time thereafter. We stood in silence, eyes on the floor below us, our attention elsewhere. I could feel her presence next to me as plain as the ringing of a giant gong. I could not ignore her no matter how hard I tried. I was, however, pleasantly surprised when she finally broke the silence between us.

"Have you ever thought of leaving?"

The question startled me and I tightly gripped the glass in my hands, certain that I would drop it in my shock. Of course I had thought of leaving, of escaping Arch's apartments and regaining my freedom. I had dreamed of traveling through the stars to distant worlds and breathing fresh air. My vivid childhood imagination had painted an impossible picture of contentment beneath blue skies, fresh grasses tickling my toes.

An age long hurt swelled in my chest and I forced it away, recognizing that it would only serve to bring pain. I had pain enough already and took another sip of wine. It burned going down, but it was a welcome relief compared to the ache that came before. My dreams had long ago turned to ash with the first fall of a flogger.

"Well?"

"A slave would be stupid to answer that question."

Aria barked a harsh laugh and turned fully toward me, leaning casually again the railing, the iridescent lighting reflecting off her perfect skin. "You're outspoken, for a slave."

I met her eyes but said nothing. The gears turned in her mind and she wore the same look I had seen when last I was in her presence. The pirate queen of Omega was formulating a plan, but I was not so egotistical to think I had any part in it. What did a lowly slave know of intrigue?

"What if I made you an offer?"

The wine caught in my throat and I decided I should set it aside for the time being. I would need all my wits about me to answer such questions. The lights flashed on the floor below and I made as if to examine the dancers once more. In reality, my mind reeled and suspicion leaked to the forefront of my thoughts.

"Depends on the offer."

Another slight smile and her eyes glittered darkly. I knew she was planning something, but exactly what, I could not fathom. "Work for me."

Again I was caught by surprise. What in Omega's piss-hole could she possibly want with a used slave? I grew frustrated and my anger flared. Silently, I damned Arch for his passions, his business dealings, and I cursed myself for my weakness.

"You want me to trade one master for another." It was a statement, not a question, and it tasted like acid on my tongue. I struggled to control the emotions warring within me, only to succeed in appearing like an even larger fool. I had little doubt Aria would use me just as Arch had and an old human saying suddenly popped into my mind: _better the devil you know_.

"Ah, Jin." He voice was firm, almost resigned as she turned back toward the dance floor. The artificial flames below played havoc with her skin tone and shadows danced across her face. "I have no need for slaves."

Despite my better judgment, I was intrigued. My curiosity outweighed my frustrations and I gazed at her with interest. "What is it that you need, then?"

"I'm in need of a talented employee." She turned back toward me then, easily slipping into an almost friendly pose, although I knew better than to be persuaded by such blatant posturing. "We are alike, you and I."

I snorted in response and quickly regretted it. It would not do to piss off the most powerful person on Omega. She seemed almost amused by my indifference, the familiar glint once more lighting her eyes.

Aria straightened suddenly, as if she had made her mind up and would brook no refusal. "I have a man, a friend you might say, who has been instructed to deliver a package."

I looked at her with curiosity, but held my tongue. I was interested to hear what she had to say.

"He will deliver it to you at the appointed time." She glanced out over her realm briefly before continuing. "You can choose to do with it what you will."

"A package?" I asked, doing my best to mask the excitement in my voice.

"You're a nice ornament on Omega, Jin." Aria shrugged nonchalantly. "That doesn't make you a necessity. Think it over."

She disappeared into the crowds as quickly as she had come. I was at a loss as to what I should think, a myriad of questions pummeling my mind and fighting for domination. I had found it surprising indeed that Aria had even noticed me, let alone requested my services. And then I questioned what sort of services she had in mind. I doubted I would be just another plaything for her as I was for Arch. An asari of her stature had no need to barter for her toys; they came to her willingly.

I downed the rest of my wine and returned to the booth, the guard still ever present and unmoving. I eyed him momentarily, studying his resolve. He remained still, devoid of any overt emotion and I sighed with discontent. The bottle of wine still stood on the table top and I poured myself another glass. I had much to think over.

O o O o O o O

Arch left on a business trip the following day. I wouldn't have thought much of it save he took his new slave girl with him. Conflicted emotions swept through my veins. I was both relieved and irritated I would not have to endure his attentions. If his pattern held true, Arch would try to break her, and I wasn't sure if I wanted him to succeed.

I used his extended absence to devour all the knowledge I could find, continuing my studies on chemistry and biology. I had found an interesting recipe that mimicked the hanar's natural poisons, only requiring surprisingly few ingredients. The trick was to let it set, and allow the natural poisons to germinate from within prior to harvesting. If either the temperature or timing was off, the poison's base components would break down into useless biological wastes. Intrigued, I filed the recipe away based on its potential.

The site also linked to another, which provided directions for construction of homemade explosives. It was amazing the information available on the extranet and curiosity got the better of me. I clicked on it and was overwhelmed by all manner of highly volatile and hazardous materials. The majority of the recipes were beyond me, incorporating a combination of chemistry and VI-assisted interfaces, many requiring mechanical skills far more advanced than my meager talents. It was almost humorous, the amount of destructive capability one site could hold.

My curiosity sated for the moment, I decided to access Arch's systems again. He had linked his omni-tool to his private terminal and left it atop his desk. I never imagined he would become so complacent. I remember he had once told me that nobody could touch him. His ego was truly enormous.

The yellow glow of my omni-tool lit up the desk as I hacked into his systems. Readouts were as usual and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I took the time to peruse his schedule and noted with irritation the dinner he had scheduled later in the evening. It seemed he was starting the new slave off young, as he did with me.

I pushed an uncomfortable memory aside and focused on the task at hand. A string of text caught my attention and I adjusted the interface on my 'tool. It seemed that Arch had upgraded his security systems recently, although it did nothing to prevent my intrusion. Curious, I investigated further. A wall of code flickered on my display and it took me a moment to recognize what exactly I was looking at. A wicked smile creased my face. I had stumbled upon his access codes for the housing complex.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Sadly, Bioware owns all.

A/N: This chapter is rated M to be on the safe side. I'm actually really satisfied with the way it turned out and almost ended the story here, but I was encouraged to continue. Enjoy!

Chapter 10

The tips of the flogger fell lightly against my skin, almost tickling. Arch's strokes were passionless and his strength had ebbed. I remained unmoving, my wrists still bound, unsure of his intent or desire. He paced restlessly behind me, his breathing ragged, his body worn. Sweat poured down his bare chest and a frown adorned his face. He grunted in resignation and released my bindings.

I sagged to the floor and turned toward him, mindful of the new welts on my back. Arch tossed the flogger aside with little care, ignoring me in favor of the view outside. Still I remained unmoving, awaiting his pleasure. This new, pensive mood was unlike him and I grew ever more uncomfortable.

I did not believe he suspected me of breaching his security systems, or was even aware of the material stored in my privacy mod. Had that been the case, I would have been killed when he first learned of my trespasses. No, that was not worried me, but rather the unfamiliarity of his emotional state. Arch was a man of routine, and because of that, I was a creature of habit as well. His mood did not fit his routine and I did not like it.

He gazed out the window for what seemed an eternity, dark eyes scanning the void. I watched him from the floor, my skin cooling from the heat of his passions. I had never believed him one for deep thought, but over the years I had realized Arch held many secrets I had not even begun to discover. Worry crept in my veins and sent a shiver up my spine. Arch turned suddenly and seemed to realize I was still on the floor. He grabbed his discarded shirt and tossed it my way almost as an afterthought.

"Here," he ordered curtly. "Cover up."

Flustered, I did as told, all the while questioning if I had done something wrong. Arch remained motionless at the window and I decided to clean myself of his attentions. He had not used me fully for his desires that night, and while a part of me was relieved, I still wondered at his lack of vigor.

He had arrived home not two hours earlier. I had served him dinner, a quiet, uncomfortable affair. He spoke little and I did not prod him. Angering Arch in his first hour home held little appeal and I had already assumed his passions that eve would run to violence. Despite my training and cooperation, his arousal waned. Instinctively I knew his tastes had turned to more tender flesh.

O o O o O o O

The meeting with Brulin Ton was scheduled for the next morning and Arch had me accompany him, dressed in the most whorish outfit I'm sure he could find. I struggled to stand in the high heels, balancing precariously on the balls of my feet. I understood what he planned, and was grateful that the material was not suctioned to my skin, but I did not appreciate the cut of the dress. It hung loose about my shoulders and gaped around my midsection. One slight breeze and everyone at the meeting would be witness to my assets.

The cargo hold was empty of life, the dock workers conveniently absent. We arrived early so Arch's guards could secure the perimeter. They fanned out, the familiar ring of their armor clanking loudly as they took up position. Arch waited with me at the car, his eyes noticeably absent their usual hunger. Given the previous night's stunted play, I was not surprised.

Ton and his entourage arrived not long after and Arch strode through the hold like a man with purpose. I followed from a respectable distance, wary of the cool air that caressed my skin. I did not need to provide more of a distraction than what Arch had intended. He told me that my mere presence would suffice. I crossed my arms for modesty's sake and hoped he was right.

The two businessmen exchanged pointless pleasantries, commenting on the recent political shifts in the region. From what little information I received, the political structure of the Terminus Systems was ever changing and chaotic. I considered it a wonder that Omega functioned as well as it did and my thoughts drifted briefly to Aria.

I snapped back to attention when I heard Ton's voice. He was speaking in hushed tones with Arch, but the lust in his gaze was unmistakable. Disgust welled up inside of me and I shifted uncomfortably. Only with great effort did I keep from running back to the car, but it seemed luck was on my side that day.

A man I did not know, one of Ton's guards presumably, leaned down to whisper in the fat man's ear. Ton's jowls quivered as he slowly nodded and I heard Arch's rumble of agreement. The guard then straightened and approached me. In that moment, I feared the worst: I was to be whored out to Brulin Ton.

"Please come with me, miss." The guard gestured to the side and I looked at him with suspicion.

"I don't take orders from you."

I couldn't tell for sure, but to this day I believe he laughed at me under his opaque helmet. "Arch's orders. Mr. Ton finds your presence…distracting. I'm to escort you back to the car. You'll wait there until the meeting is completed."

It took me a moment to process the information, completely at odds with what I had expected. I nodded dumbly and followed him, my high heels clicking loudly on the hold's floor. He was polite enough to open the door for me and I slid in awkwardly, mindful of my dress and working to keep it from flapping open. He waited until I was situated and took up position by the car door.

I frowned at this new development, and curious, I questioned him. "Are you going to stay there the entire time?"

His helmeted head bobbed briefly. "Orders, miss."

My frown deepened as did my confusion. "Whose orders?"

"I'm not at liberty to say, miss."

I bit my tongue on a sharp retort, anger threatening to overwhelm my better senses. I sifted through the previous night's events, unsure if I had upset Arch, angered him in any manner. Nothing sprang to the forefront of my mind and I knew if I had given offense, Arch would have punished me accordingly. As it was, he had barely touched me, the welts on my back more akin to light bruises.

My thoughts shifted to the slave girl, the memory of her dark eyes under long lashes. I remembered the first night I shared with Arch, his treatment of me, of the arguments between him and his wife. Their enmity had grown gradually stronger and then she never returned. A dark laugh escaped my lips as I realized the truth. Arch had already lost interest in me. I was to be shipped off or dealt with as was his wife. That had been what the one-eyed slave meant.

A slight shuffling of movement caught my attention and I turned toward the sound. By the restless looks of his guards, it seemed as if Arch's meeting was almost over. I adjusted my dress once more and prepared for his return. However, I was caught by surprise when Ton's guard shifted from his post outside the car. He leaned down subtly, and to anyone watching it looked as if he was holding open the door for me. I looked up into the shadows of his helmet, a question on my lips.

"I was instructed to deliver a package."

The words echoed in my ears as he deftly slid a parcel into the car. I took the small object without hesitation, hiding it in the folds of my dress. The guard shifted once more and moved to allow Arch access to the car. I made room for him as he sank into the seat, using that brief movement to secure the package on my person. I hoped that Arch's indifference would remain consistent, and when his eyes did not meet mine, I knew it would.

It wasn't until later that night that I was able to examine Aria's package in greater detail. Arch had been restless the entire day, pacing to and fro and snapping at the servants. I did nothing to calm him, preferring to stay out of his way entirely. He was more than happy to let me, passing me by with little more than brief glance. Even in bed he barely acknowledged my presence, only pausing once in his ill mood to run his fingers through my hair. His dark eyes met my own and I saw in them an emotion I did not recognize.

He turned away from me then and I was left staring at his back. A surprising feeling of loneliness welled up inside me and I cursed my weakness. I had always known what I was to Arch, had always acknowledged that I was nothing more than a slave. And yet, despite his maltreatment of me, I still cared for him. Aside from Mother, he was the only real thing I knew of love.

The night cycle wore on and Arch's soft snores drifted upon the air. I watched him sleep for a time, studied the rise and fall of his chest. It was only when I was sure that he was deep asleep that I slipped deftly from the covers. I padded softly across the floor to the washroom and uncovered the package from where I'd hidden it. With care borne of long years, I unwrapped it.

Two strange bits of tech fell into my palm and I studied them cautiously. I realized that the first was an attachment for an omni-tool, modified to be compatible with most models. Curious, I installed it and watched with fascinated awe as data streamed forth. Aria had sent me a compression mine, the second bit of tech, complete with instructions; talented employee indeed.

A wicked smile graced my lips. I knew exactly what to do.

I switched off my 'tool, not wanting the light to disturb Arch's slumber. I paused in my excitement and listened, his steady snores barely audible over the pounding of my heart. My anxiety eased and I set the mine on the countertop, attention riveted on the mirror. A costumed face looked back at me and I barely recognized myself.

The hot water was welcome, cleansing. A million thoughts raced through my mind as I scrubbed the heavy makeup from my face. I had never wanted this life, had been thrust into it unwillingly. The woman in the mirror was a thing of Arch's creation. She was not me.

In my frenzy I noticed a pair of scissors in the drawer and I used them without hesitation. Clumps of long, silken hair drifted quietly into the sink, strands falling almost lazily to the floor. I cut until there was nothing left for me to trim and again I met my reflection in the mirror. Short, spiky hair now topped my head and dark satisfaction heated my veins.

I was no longer Arch's whore. I was Jin.

I moved quietly through the room, always wary of the changes of rhythm in Arch's breaths. My preparations did not take long. I only needed to throw on some clothes, a simple pair of pants and top. My boots were under the bed and I quickly pulled them on. I stood and pocketed my favorite book. It was then that nostalgia gripped me and I saw Arch's drawer.

I realize now that I took an awful risk, but at the time it seemed a necessity. Looking over my shoulder I noticed that Arch had not moved and decided to take a chance. The wardrobe doors creaked slightly as I opened them and fished around for the latch. It caught with little effort and the drawer opened with what sounded like a roar amidst the silence.

My heart stilled and I froze. I was certain in that moment that I was dead, but nothing happened. No guards burst through the door and soft snores still drifted upon the air, constant and uninterrupted. I breathed a sigh of relief and gathered my courage once more.

I ignored the drawer's contents and reached for my own desires. The matching pistols were resting within the shoulder holster and I took them without a second thought. A slight glint caught my eye and I recognized Arch's knife. I almost left it behind, but on impulse, I grabbed it. It was a beautiful blade and still held value.

The drawer clicked shut softly and I moved to the window. According to the readout, compression mines were implosive devices and excellent tools for use specifically on structural weaknesses. Following the instructions I had been given, I placed the mine on the inner seal of the window and armed it. I worried little about its detection as it was well hidden by the cheap curtains Arch's wife had purchased many years ago.

I took one last look at Arch, studying him, putting to memory every line of his body. His face was peaceful in sleep and I ached to find him still beautiful. Almost reluctantly I turned from him and made my way down the hall to the entryway. Using the access codes I had recovered from Arch's files I bypassed the security systems. The hiss of the main doors went unnoticed in the night and I slipped out, locking the blast doors on my way. It would not do to leave the hull breach uncontained.

Myriad emotions flooded my system but what I remember most about that moment was the feeling of control. I had survived.

I made my way through the rugged streets, dirt stained vagrants and beggars pestering me for money. I ignored the curses directed toward me and pulled my hood up, inured to the suffering of others. They were still alive. The needed no assistance from me.

I found myself in front of Afterlife short hours later. I wasn't surprised when the bouncer let me bypass the impatient crowds. I knew I was expected. Her man greeted me in the entryway and I followed him inside. She had a drink waiting for me and I took it without hesitation, settling in beside her.

"I heard there was an accident in the upper levels, explosive decompression in sector twenty-three."

I could hear the hint of a smile in her voice and I merely nodded.

"An entire apartment complex lost." She shook her head, eyes sparkling. "Tragic."

I sipped on my drink, the adrenaline still coursing wildly through my blood. Aria had said we were alike. Perhaps. Perhaps not. I had yet to discern for myself. In the meantime, however, I was content to take what she offered. And she offered far more than Arch ever had.

Her eyes met mine, the familiar glint present. She inclined her head ever so slightly, that anyone other than I would have missed it. Dark satisfaction crept once more into my veins. I was free. My gaze followed Aria's and we once more watched the dancers before us, lithe bodies swimming in a sea of light.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all, I suppose.

A/N: I decided to post a bit early in order to thank everyone who has been reading and/or reviewing. Just knowing that others take an interest in my twisted forays into sex, intrigue, and violence is an inspiration and great motivation. You all have made this a worthwhile venture. This chapter is rated M for the usual reasons, and without further delay, on to Jin's story...

Chapter 11

Nine years had passed since that night and I entered Aria's employ. During that time I had seen alien cultures and behavior I had never dreamed I would be witness to. Not even the literature prepared me for the sights that graced my vision. However, while the reality was far more educational, I preferred the written word. Books were fiction, the imitation of life and therefore romanticized. I still had occasion to fancy, although those moments were growing few and far between.

I had matured into a woman, driven by the knowledge and talents up of my upbringing. However, never was my youthful fantasy fulfilled. At times I would envy the dancers their voluptuous curves, graceful figures trailing sex in their wake. The many patrons in Afterlife stared after them with blatant lust on their faces, oblivious of their surroundings, enamored with the explosion of sensuality parading before them. It was at times irritating, as my own slender frame did not garner such attention. However, if they wanted a drink with which to drown their desires, then they would have to seek me out eventually.

It was Aria's idea to put me to work in her club. I understood how Omega worked, but my face was new. Only few had ever seen me before and were unlikely to recognize me out of context. I agreed, willing to accept the job she provided, ignorant in the beginning of the true purpose of my work. I had already established my worth and willingness to kill and Aria thought to put me to use. What better place to hide an assassin than in plain sight?

Naivety blinded me at first. I was more than happy to be away from Arch and did not look to be used again so soon. However, Aria desired to make use of her newest investment, and I was made aware of her intent. She instructed me not on the kill, but on the trap; how to spin a web of entanglement so as to achieve my goal. While she did not order me to terminate my target outright, as it was information she desired, Aria was not adverse to his end.

It was during this, my first assignment, in which I learned of the breadth of my anger and my own capability for torture. I am not necessarily proud of what I did, but neither do I regret it. Despite his treatment of me, I fared far better than his slaves, but Brulin Ton was a monster. I had no qualms in dealing with him as I saw fit.

I had been working for Aria only two weeks when she gave me the assignment, but already had developed a feel for Afterlife's pulse. She placed me in the seedy lower bar, dance music blazing in my ears, patrons shouting for drinks above the din. It had been a horrendous day and all I wanted was to retreat to the break room and down a bourbon shooter. After the initial rush, I had thought my troubles over. I overlooked him as he took a seat at the bar, rotund belly barely contained beneath the counter. His jowls quivered as he shouted across the bar to me and I watched as realization dawned in his beady eyes. A harsh bark of laughter escaped his greasy lips and I suppressed a shudder of disgust.

"Why Jin," he drawled. "What a pleasant treat! I'm surprised to find you here."

I ignored the question in his voice and instead stared at him expectantly, awaiting his drink order. I had a job to do. I was in no mood to chat.

"How ever did you survive the sad accident that took your beloved Arch?"

I bit my tongue on a sharp retort. I could hear Aria's voice in my ears. It would not do to drive him away. I remembered my early lessons and played at subservience despite the rebellious churning of my gut. I would be meek and accommodating, yet aloof. I would make Ton chase me as I knew it would drive him to distraction.

"Lucky, I suppose." I wiped off the counter with a wet rag. "What can I get you to drink?"

Another derisive laugh escaped him. "From slave to bartender, eh? I'm not sure I'd call that a step up, Jin." He leaned over the bar, the bulk of his form hampering his progress. "You could always work for me. I could set you up real nice, Jin."

I ignored the stench of his breath as it wafted on the air. The idea of being in Ton's employ made me sick. I despised him and what he represented, but as I watched him lick his fat lips in undisguised lust, I recognized opportunity.

"Oh? Doing what?"

I saw the spark of intrigue light his eyes and he attempted to lean further over the bar as if to whisper conspiracies into my ears. "I can think of many things, Jin. I've heard you are quite….talented."

It felt as if my stomach had dropped to the floor, immobilizing my feet. I was unable to move. Arch had discussed me with Ton? I pulled myself out of the clutches of surprise. Of course Arch had told Ton of our activities. It would have boosted his ego to brag of his bedroom prowess, Ton's envy only serving to heighten his pleasure. Additionally, Arch would be able to improve upon the profit made by my sale if Ton's appetite had already been whet. He was nothing if not practical.

Ton's eyes raked up my form and lingered on my breasts. I rudely cleared my throat to gain his attention once more. "What would you like to drink?"

Beady eyes frowned in irritation. It seemed that Ton did not like his offers dismissed so easily, and he straightened, his bulk settling once more beneath the counter. "Nothing."

I shrugged nonchalantly and continued in my duties, wiping down the countertops and restocking the bar. He watched me a moment longer before leaving, eyes always following my movements. That he would return I had no doubt, but I was unsure of how soon. I had my answer the following evening.

Ton appeared once more accompanied by a small group of men. They followed him to a corner booth where a curvaceous asari danced. I did not need to hear the usual catcalls to know they occurred, although the dancer did a marvelous job of hiding her irritation. In some ways, Aria's dancers were more skilled in the arts of deception than I would ever be.

Not long after his arrival, Ton approached the bar alone. I understood his caution. He would not want to risk losing face in front of his fellows, after all. I finished filling a batarian's order before turning once more to Ton, his eyes still lingering on my breasts. Again I cleared my throat rudely, noting with satisfaction the spark of anger in his eyes at my insubordination.

"What do you want?" I surprised even myself at the absence of venom in my voice.

He studied me for a time, eyes drifting over my body as he licked fat lips. I dared not step away from the counter as it would give him even more of me to ogle. My dedication to duty only went so far. I swallowed my impatience, ignoring the hunger in his gaze. He would not rattle me. I would win the contest of wills, and so I forced my irritation aside, focusing instead on a newcomer to the bar. Ton watched as I fulfilled the other patron's order as he sat, awkwardly plump on the barstool. It was an image that I found both humorous and revolting.

I continued to ignore Ton as others requested drinks. I was working and I had no time to wait hand and foot on an indecisive slaver. He would order when he was ready, or else not at all. I would hurry by him in my duties, barely meeting his beady eyes, and noting with satisfaction his building impatience. I admit I took pleasure in his discomfort, but I also recognized he would not hesitate to do the same to me.

It was after the fifth patron left that he waved me over. I approached him as I did before, an expectant look on my face. "Are you ready to order?"

The heat in his eyes was unmistakable and his licked his lips hungrily. "You know what I want, Jin. Come work for me."

I studied him for a time as if considering his offer, when in reality I was disgusted with the man. I remembered the stink of his breath, the feel of his hands on my body, and the urge to terminate him grew powerful. However, Aria disliked dead bodies in her club and I was in no position to disappoint her so early in the game.

"I'm here to serve drinks, Mr. Ton. Are you going to order?"

"No." He stood uncomfortably, struggling with his bulk as he pushed out from the bar. I watched in morbid fascination as he waddled back to his fellows, a look of feigned satisfaction on his face. No doubt he was spouting untruths to cover his prolonged absence. Like any man in his position, he did not enjoy being made the fool before an audience.

Brulin Ton returned again the following evening, leaving shortly after I turned down his offer yet again. He repeated the pattern the next two nights, and again I denied him the pleasure of my employment, my company. I was beginning to tire of his pathetic attempts, recognizing his need for the chase. Ton was the kind of man who enjoyed things that came easily to him, as most everything did. However, per Aria's instruction I knew that once impatience and frustration got the better of him, he would grow careless. It was a gamble that finally paid off his last night in Afterlife.

I was tending the lower bar as usual when he stalked in. I was surprised by the anger in his stance and the forcefulness of his voice. Were I still a slave I might have cowered on the ground for fear of his temper. As it was, however, I put on a believable display of fear. I knew his threats to kill me were not empty, that he had the capability to enforce it. And so I surrendered to his demands despite my aversion to his very presence.

He took me from the bar that very night, absent guards or additional security. As expected, he was careless.

I played the subservient girl and followed him obediently to his apartment. I remained aloof and distant, playing on his expectations of fear. Ton appeared to love it, believing that I was truly helpless and afraid for my life. It served to heighten his arousal and he soon pawed at me like an animal in heat. Intense revulsion welled up within me and I sputtered a poor excuse to escape him. He would not have it.

"Very well," I feigned resignation. "But please be gentle, I beg you."

I had fanned the flames of his desire and saw the hunger in his eyes consume his better judgment. He was on me in an instant, ripping my clothes from my body and gorging himself on the taste of my flesh. I ignored his animalistic attempts and flicked the switch on my wristband. Had Ton been more of a mind he would have scanned me upon entering his apartment. As it was, however, he missed the presence of the poisoned microneedle in my cuff. The injection went unnoticed as my fingers dug into his greasy skin.

He stilled suddenly, griping his throat as he slid off my body. I watched him crumple to the ground as I adjusted my clothing, a feeling of dark satisfaction spreading through my veins. Ton jerked violently, pocked flesh rippling as the poison took hold, and I watched with delight as he writhed helplessly on the floor. According to my chrono, it took him twelve standard minutes to die. I enjoyed every bit of it.

I did as Aria instructed and downloaded the information she sought from his personal terminal. His access codes were relatively easy to bypass, and as I awaited completion of the data transfer, a revelation dawned on me: I was good at killing.

The reality struck me like a hammer's blow and I sat down on Ton's couch to steady myself. His blank eyes stared up at me, surprise still echoing in their depths even as his body cooled on the floor. I felt no remorse for the act knowing that Ton had earned such a fate, just as I felt no guilt for Arch's end. He had incurred the same. It was a calming feeling to be sure of one's self and one's purpose, and although the memory of blue eyes occasionally haunted me, I had long ago learned to ignore it. Murder no longer held sway over me, and guilt held no meaning.

I could do this, could deal death and secure my place in Omega. I would survive, and per Aria's orders, I would hunt. For on Omega, there was no shortage of prey.

It had not taken me long to grow accustomed to the hunt, and I built on my talents born of Arch's demise. Over the years my aim had improved, although I rarely used the pistols on the job. Noise attracted attention and I preferred to avoid such entanglements. The matched set held more nostalgic value, but on occasion Aria's man Gavorn would invite me to assist him with his duties. I rarely turned him down, relishing the feel of the cool metal as it warmed to my touch, using the excuse to keep my skills honed when in reality the kill both excited and disgusted me. Even so, vorcha hunting held too many memories and lacked the sort of finesse I had grown to appreciate.

Death became my art, blades and poisons the tools with which I created masterpieces. My muse was deadly, relentless, and merciless. I prided myself on efficiency, and more importantly, on success. My love of chemistry had served me well, and even though Aria considered my fascination an eccentricity, she recognized potential. Not once had any of my targets been traced back to me, and by extension, Aria. I performed admirably and was rewarded accordingly.

She had provided me with intelligence that I had been unable to procure on my own, data that was secreted away from public eyes, existing only in whispers and rumor. It seemed the Illuminated Primacy had a program under the compact that specifically targeted drell as young as five standard years. They were training killers, and Aria had somehow obtained details of the regimen. I was in awe.

I devoured the intelligence without a second thought, amazed at the simplicity and ruthlessness of their techniques. The drell's metaphysical philosophy was the perfect excuse for their profession, treating their body as the weapon, unable to distinguish right from wrong. Their employers bore the sin, the stain of murder while the assassin remained absent any ethical dilemma. I admired them while at the same time pitying them. Because of their beliefs, the drell foreswore the one emotion the hunt always delivered me: satisfaction.

Shortly after studying the stolen data I received an opportunity examine the intelligence first hand. It seemed that a private sponsor had contracted business on Omega to be managed at the hand of a drell assassin. Aria sent me to investigate as the target was a known associate of hers. As it so happened, our objectives coincided and we engaged in an uneasy alliance.

I used his target to draw out mine and I could not have wished for a better opportunity. The drell worked with precision and I took advantage of the confusion he created. My target fled the scene of their meeting absent his guards and wild panic in his eyes. A shadowed corner and a sharp blade were all I needed. When his men arrived to find him bleeding out on the dingy alleyway I was long gone.

I never saw my co-conspirator again, but because of him I learned to recognize the nature of danger and death. Much like the oceans I had read of, the drell presented a serene calm while danger swam unseen within. I recognized his strength and speed, how he used his training and natural abilities to achieve his goal, and I realized that I was not his equal. Not yet.

It was a daily ritual thereafter that I practiced my abilities, honed my talents to a keen edge. My routine was punctuated by the occasional assignment, the intelligence provided by Aria. She had recognized my hate for slavers and used it to her advantage. While my methods were quick and efficient, I held a special place in my heart for slavers. Aria came to appreciate the message I sent.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

A/N: Again a big thank you to everyone following along!

Chapter 12

Strange the notion of memory, how unbidden images slither from the darkened recesses of my mind. It is most often during idleness that I revisit the past, the faces of those that have gone, many by my own hand. Occasionally, the images fade, blurring together with the passage of time. Only those that remain sharp in my mind's eye retain personal relevance, be it peace or vengeance.

I relished the surprise frozen on Ton's face as he crumpled to the floor, the realization as it dawned on him that I had caused his demise. He had not suspected I was capable of such a feat and his ignorance had been his undoing. Had he treated me kinder, though, I doubt my success would have tasted so sweet.

At times I still remember Arch as he was the night I left him, unaware that the simple ease of his base existence would soon end. His face was rather handsome as he slept, at peace outside the daily cares of his corrupt business. I never did wonder how he managed to sleep at all, but rather how he could so soundly with me next to him. Trust was not a word in his vocabulary, but it was a mystery which would remain unsolved.

And I remember Mother, the green twinkle in her eyes, the scent of soft perfume on the air. I could hear the whisper of her voice at times, her stubborn pride pushing us ever onward. Ghosts of the past, as gnarled as her hands, still occasionally flickered to life and I would sift through them as idleness allowed. Such memories served as lessons learned, carried within so as to give meaning to my life, but guilt had no place for me.

No, guilt was a lesson I never learned.

After nine years I had refined the lessons learned as a child. Patience was a virtue, and one that I exploited to my benefit. When all others had abandoned a mark, I alone pursued it. I alone remained undaunted, hunting in the dark corners of Omega's grimy streets. Never had I failed in a mission. I remained patient and in time the target eventually came to me. I simply had to wait for the perfect moment, the perfect opportunity, a concept many of Aria's novices did not fully comprehend. They would learn, as I did, or they would die.

Subservience was another lesson I had never truly mastered. Bowing down to another's whims was tolerable for a time, but I recognized that my pride occasionally hampered my resolve. I learned to simply bend to their desires if duty required, without breaking completely, thus fulfilling my objective. The combination of pride and subservience rarely worked in coordination with the game, unless both parties understood the nature of what it was they played. However, given my victims unwilling demise, it was rarely the case.

Revenge I consider the most potent and dangerous of the lessons I had learned. Rarely do I seek it now as I have little reason. Barring the occasional slaver, seldom does Aria assign me to such tasks. Vengeance clouds the mind and dulls the senses, as all energies are focused without fail on the target. Patience has little effect on a vendetta, and neither does control. In the nine years under Aria's employ, only twice did I act strictly with the purpose of revenge, but Aria was pleased at the outcome nonetheless.

I met with her after I had completed my assignment on Brulin Ton. She was in her usual haunt, lounging and deceptively calm in her perch on Afterlife's main floor. I was summoned as soon as I came in for my shift at work, as it would be all too obvious to anyone watching if I reported immediately after the deed. Patience was valuable outside of the hunt as well.

I climbed the stairs, calm façade belying my inner turmoil. I knew what she had expected of me, but a tangle of worry clouded my mind. I almost laughed aloud when I finally realized I was nervous about job expectations. The absurdity of my worry steadied me and I focused instead on other interests, such as the stately curve of Aria's neck as I approached her private booth.

It was difficult for me to distinguish my feelings for her, so wound up in adoration and appreciation, that oftentimes I mistook her appeal for attraction. To this day I still find her enticing. It was not her physical form that solely captured me, but the strength, the undeniable authority and confidence she wielded. It was in that moment, as I climbed the last of the steps to her perch that I vowed to learn from her. I would be as ruthless, as driven, and as intelligent in order to achieve my objectives. However, during my moment of clarity, I had little idea what the future would hold, including said objectives.

"Word has reached me that one of Afterlife's regulars had some bad luck." She barely tilted her head to face me, eyes drifting over the dancer on her left. "Poor bastard's heart gave out."

"Really?" I feigned ignorance for the sake of show. I had already learned this game. "I do hope the poor bastard fares well."

The corner of her mouth quirked upward in the barest, briefest hint of a smile. "I'm afraid not. Seems he overexerted himself – poor taste in sport, word has it."

"Ahh," I nodded. "Poor taste indeed."

O o O o O o O

I learned to hide my identity when I met with Aria in an official capacity. A mere bartender garnering such attention would seem out of place, and so I hid my face within a deep hood. It seemed absurd to me at first when Aria suggested it, but given my increasing success at her tasks, she grew concerned about my potential for notoriety. An infamous assassin would attract the eyes of those she cared to avoid, and so I complied. I shielded myself for her benefit and mine.

And so my years in anonymity began. Jin remained the bartender, but no one quite knew what to make of the figure that stood in Aria's shadow. Rumors spread, whispered in the darkness of Omega. And Aria smiled.

When I wasn't engaged in the more menial tasks of Afterlife, Aria invited me to accompany her on various outings. Hooded and anonymous I would follow, comfortable in my new, nameless identity. It offered a measure of freedom that I had rarely known, and I reveled in the discomfort my presence brought others. Their ignorance of my person set them on edge, and I believe Aria enjoyed it as much as I did. We had come to find a measure of equality, her and I.

Aria liked to share the company of like-minded individuals and together we would often enjoy the spectacle of the fighting pits. Usually, vorcha were featured, but the lineup varied pending availability of new meat. The opening act consisted of two rival vorcha packs, ready to bloody the arena before the mercs took center stage. I found it only mildly entertaining and sipped on my drink to whittle away the time.

"Goddamn vorcha. You think we'd be able to get some better entertainment by now."

I shrugged. "I doubt we'll get the hanar juggler back. He was attacked during boarding. It was quite messy."

Aria sighed into her glass before downing the rest of the amber liquid. "He was good for a laugh, I'll give him that."

The whistle sounded, high pitched and grating against my ears. The initial match had started and slavering vorcha circled before our vision. It was a sight I was familiar with, and although it passed for entertainment, I found it rather dull at times.

"I hate those beasts," Aria spat. "Brainless animals."

"Perhaps there is a way to harness their potential?" I quipped, bare thought put into the meaning of my words. I only wished to make idle conversation to ease my boredom, but as I looked to Aria, I noticed a familiar gleam in her eyes.

"Perhaps." She set her glass down and immediately reached for another, swirling the fluid restlessly.

We fell into comfortable silence as the violence took hold, rival vorcha packs tearing into each other and littering the arena with carnage. Their regenerative capabilities only served to prolong their suffering and draw out the spectacle, but I cared not. I wanted to get my money's worth.

Aria leaned forward in her seat, eyes alight with interest, the familiar glint flaring in her eyes. I watched her study the vorcha pack as they ripped into each other, biting, clawing, rending flesh from bone. Their death lacked art and I found no beauty in the chaos. I wasn't able to discern what Aria sought, however, and she soon relaxed, once more sipping on her glass.

"The mercs should be up soon." I stated blandly. "Blue Suns, I believe."

"Yes. I promised the winner a decent purse – probably worth more than their pathetic attempts would earn."

I shrugged again, nonchalant, the drink warming my body. I set it aside for the moment. I was far too comfortable. "Perhaps I could take care of that for you, regain some of your lost income."

"Bloodthirsty, are we?" A trickle of laughter escaped her lips and I watched enraptured as she crossed her legs. "I can think of better uses for your talents, my dear. You are far from a petty thief."

Her voice was like liquid velvet and I melted into it, reveling in her praise and attention. I had no doubt she understood her effects on me, but I had learned long ago to restrain myself in her presence. Breathing deeply, I took a moment to compose my wits and met her eyes though the shadows of my hood.

"Instead of the usual fare, what if the winner received a free line of credit at your casino? They would have no place to spend their winnings but in your establishment – a chance to reclaim your investment as it were."

A devious smile pulled at the corners of her mouth and she took another sip of her drink. "Very nice, my dear. The likelihood of full reimbursement without the need to attract undue attention."

"And a chance to profit." I added. "The house always wins."

Aria barked a harsh laugh, the glint in her eyes returning. "True, my dear. So true."

I watched as she set her drink aside and called over one of her henchmen. I did not hear the orders she relayed to him, but I didn't need to. The winner's purse would be altered to suit her needs, and in the end Aria would win. It was what she excelled at.

She was indeed a marvel to behold; beauty, brains, power wrapped up in a tight, deadly package. I had no doubt when it came to her cunning or her cold calculation. Aria knew what she wanted and she could manipulate the galaxy to provide her with it. At times I envied Aria's strength, other times I pitied her. In all the years that I had known her, she had kept not one person close, not even her daughter. Aria remained isolated, and in doing so, retained her power and dominance over Omega.

She was relatively safe in her isolation, but also very alone. I could relate.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Bioware owns everything. Talented bastards.

A/N: I posted this chapter early per reader request and because I adore her. You know who you are!

Chapter 13

The pisser stank. It mattered not how many times I cleaned the cursed place, it still reeked of piss and shit and various other bodily fluids blessed by the heterogeneous alien populations. It seemed that imbibing too much alcohol had a universal effect and I was left to manage the repercussions. Glaring at the floor in the men's restroom I willed myself to work, disgust boiling underneath my skin at the sight that lay before me. As a slave I had been forced to remove human waste, but dextro foulness was an entirely new level of abhorrence. I suppressed the need to vomit multiple times before the putrescence was washed away, and even then the echo of it lingered in the air.

I stood in the doorway upon fulfillment of my task, the heavy scent of sanitizer barely overwhelming the usual restroom odors. Satisfied with the completion of a job well done I turned to leave just as an inebriated turian stumbled in. I watched as he staggered back and forth and, leaning against the wall for support, made his way to a urinal. In horror, I observed him void all over my clean floor, the acrid scent of dextro piss filling the air once again. My temper flared and I conveniently forgot my place.

Aria didn't force me to clean the restrooms after that incident. Apparently, the entertainment that my antics provided her was payment enough for my misconduct. She dearly loved a humorous spectacle, and when that spectacle involved surgical removal of a mop handle from between turian chitin, all the better.

My co-workers were not thrilled by this outcome, as they now had to pick up the slack generated by my restricted duties. I cared not. I was of little importance to them as it was, the only human on staff at the lower bar. Their concerns mattered not at all to me, as I knew this position was a temporary one. Aria shifted me around so as not to garner too much attention and breed familiarity with the regular patrons. It would not do to be easily recognizable in my line of work.

I was glad of the change, the drab clientele wearing on my nerves. The lower bar catered to the rougher crowd, those who enjoyed the dancing, the drinking, and the drugging. Often fights would break out with very little effort to secure the combatants. Only if Aria's interests were threatened did the guards intervene. Otherwise, it was seen as sport, and my fellow bartenders and I would take bets on the winner. I had a decent winning streak now and again, but every so often a combatant would surprise me; served me right for betting on drunkards.

The merc gangs ran freely throughout the club, an uneasy alliance between them while on Aria's turf. Given the availability of quality sport to be had, the mercs were loath to earn her ire and ruin their chances with the dancers. Aria didn't necessarily run whores, but she was not adverse to them selling their wares in her club so long as she got a cut. On Omega, anything could be bought for the right price.

I didn't agree with the practice, even though it was the oldest profession in existence, but rarely did I shy from it. Not all the dancers could be bought, which oftentimes caused confusion with the drunken mercs. It was then that the guards would once more step in and secure the area, leaving the gangs to find alternative entertainment or sport. When no other option presented itself they tended to drift down the corridors to a local brothel, infamous for its distasteful conditions and even more distasteful selection. I had been unlucky enough only once to pass by the establishment on my way to work, and now I avoided it like the slum's plague. My memories of Arch contained all the torment I required. I had no desire to be reminded of the ills committed on Omega and the low standards to which one would fall.

It was yet another grim indicator of the depths of depravity one could sink when given no choice. However, for others to profit off that misery and even enjoy it was something I could never fathom. I had little respect for the mercs that frequented the brothel, eager to give away their earnings for the promise of flesh neither clean nor willing. I despised them and their desires, secretly hoping they would be a target in my near future. Alas, they were not, as none rated high enough on Aria's interests to gain her attentions.

It was when I experienced longings such as these that I turned once more to the written word, blanketing my lust for vengeance in the beautiful fiction of literature. The occasional break from reality was necessary, the grit and grime of Omega taking its toll; but always I knew that nothing could live up to the worlds I had painted in my mind. It was a sad, yet comforting thought. I had a place that was mine alone, even if it was only a pleasant fantasy.

I remember it was a particularly long day at the bar and my thoughts wandered aimlessly. Another fight had broken out between the gangs and merc blood still pooled on the floor, but I ignored it. Instead, I wiped down the counter, the wet rag growing dirtier with each stroke, contemplating the next book on my list of desired reads. I was in need of a respite from the chaos erupting around me, bored with the everyday drivel of the scum that frequented the lower bar. I had just decided to call it a day when a trio of newcomers arrived.

I watched them subtly, pretending to focus my attention on the task at hand. The lead individual approached while the other two took up flanking positions. Military, I presumed, although none wore any identifiable uniforms, but rather a curious symbol upon their garments. Feigning disinterest, I continued with my closing tasks, moving to stock the bar and also get a better look at them.

The trio lead gestured to me for a drink, wisely forgoing the usual shout to be heard above the din of the music. I nodded in recognition and poured a batarian ale. He downed it quickly, tossing back his head with the drink, and then slamming the glass back down. He gestured for another to which I complied. Again, the dark-eyed man downed the drink hurriedly and I recognized in him something familiar.

He stood in what could be considered a relaxed pose, but the air about him simmered, heated with anticipation. His eyes scanned the room, taking in the layout, the exits, the patrons on the dance floor. He was military trained alright, and carried with him the slight unease of an individual well acquainted with hostility. He met my eyes briefly and in them I saw death. This man was no stranger to ending lives, and in that moment, I believe he recognized the same in me.

We stared at each other for what seemed an eternity, but in actuality was only a moment. He stepped back from the bar, breaking eye contact, and gestured to his team. They left forthwith, barely pausing to pay the tab. I returned to my duties, pondering the importance of the man I had just seen. I suspected Aria knew of him, and toyed with the idea of another potential target.

My shift ended shortly thereafter and I made my way home, weaving through the lighted streets and alleyways, always acutely aware of my surroundings. I had grown accustomed to the local streets, become familiar with the vagrants and beggars that prowled the neighborhood. It was oddly comforting to know that the batarian hawker would be shouting obscenities as I left work, that the homeless human would be rifling through the dumpsters at the end of my alley. It was a form of routine, and I still retained my love of habit, although I did mix up my routes from time to time. It would not do to grow incautious.

My apartment was small, tidy, clean, and it was mine. Upon arriving home I engaged in my daily ritual, tracing a path through the rooms and searching for minute discrepancies. According to the security logs, no one had entered my apartment since I left, but logs could be bypassed as I well knew. I activated my omni-tool and did a scan of the area. The readouts were identical to those before I left. Nothing had been touched, none of my traps had been triggered; I was safe at home.

I pulled off my boots and set them in the closet, out of the way before grabbing my guns. I traced the odd pattern on the grips, never able to discover its meaning. As per my routine, I broke the pistols down into pieces, lovingly cleaning, polishing, and then reassembling them. They gleamed darkly against my skin before I once more placed the pistols into their respective holsters. My knives followed suit, sharpened, and then polished to a high sheen, replaced only after moving through my forms.

After exerting myself for an hour I flopped down on the couch, twirling Arch's blade aimlessly, and flipped through the vids. It was a surprisingly domestic activity, given my occupation, and I enjoyed the simplicity of it. Vids required no thought and I found it a relaxing pastime.

I had only been home a standard hour when I received a message on my omni-tool. Activating it, I recognized Aria's codes and began decrypting the files. It seemed I had another target, and I drank in the information she provided. Blessedly, I was to be moved from the lower bar and stationed in the VIP lounge, an area in which I had rarely worked previously. A shiver of excitement ran through me as I continued reading.

The target was to arrive tomorrow and Aria believed he would be motivated to visit the VIP lounge that very evening. I wondered little at her manipulations, as she was a master, but dared not try to untangle her webs of intrigue. I knew few of her informants and was privy to a small portion of her spy network, but I believed I would appear less threatening the less I truly knew. I had no desire to upset my position in Aria's employ, satisfied with my shadowed status at her side.

It was as she predicted. The target arrived that very evening.

I had familiarized myself with the bar's layout at the start of my shift. It was not so different from the lower club, but contained many more high-end liquors. The lounge was small and easily viewed from the bar. A lighted railing lined the dance floor, punctuated by vibrant iridescence. Shadows writhed on the wall, chased away by the artificial flames common throughout Afterlife. It reeked of privacy and sex, and I noticed a number of couples conspicuously huddled in the corners during the night.

I saw my target enter, finely dressed and glancing curiously around the lounge. The image Aria forwarded me did not do him justice as he looked to be quite handsome. I was able to observe him unobtrusively from behind the counter, his eyes drifting over the many patrons in the room, pausing on the bar. I ignored the heated excitement pooling in my gut and feigned disinterest as he drew near. As with any other customer I approached him with my usual query.

He shot me a surprised look as if my question was unexpected, but recovered just as quickly and ordered a scotch neat. I did as he requested and continued about my duties, my attention still fixed on him. He turned away from me, gazing out across the dance floor and into the shadows of the lounge. He leaned forward on the stool as if in anticipation, and by the look on his face, I believed he expected a guest.

I filled the orders of other patrons while my target remained unmoving, the expectant look slowly fading from his face. The night wore on and he ordered another drink. I took the time to study him, tried to discern the color of his eyes in the dim light to no avail. He seemed restless to me, distant, and I attempted to ply the age old trade of the bartender.

"Something on your mind?"

The words sounded inane to my ears and I prayed I didn't come across as such. I had no idea why human bartenders felt the need to engage others in conversation, as it seemed a species-specific stereotype. I had occasionally used the ruse to my advantage, plucking information from the unwary, but never had I been overly concerned with the state of my targets. As his eyes met mine, I wondered at his possible dilemma.

He looked at me then, truly acknowledging my presence for the first time that evening. His eyes remained hooded in shadow, flickering in the erratic light of the lounge. He slouched forward slightly, leaning his weight on the counter as he toyed with his glass. I topped it off as a courtesy. Perhaps more scotch would loosen his tongue.

"You look like you were expecting someone?" I prompted, hoping to encourage him.

"That was the plan," he stated, and sipped lightly from his glass.

I opened my mouth to speak again, but he turned away, eyes once more scanning the lounge. I shifted some bottles around, pretending to restock the wells, awaiting my target's attention. He turned back toward the bar, seemingly resigned, and contemplating his beverage. I attempted the stereotype once more.

"Perhaps they're running late."

He ignored me and took another sip of his drink. His eyes remained hooded and his posture tense. Aria's intelligence made no mention of a meeting and I wondered at his expected guest. Curiosity got the better of me and I pursued the one-sided conversation.

"Is it someone special you were meeting tonight?"

His eyes shot up from his glass, sharp and penetrating and I realized I had overstepped my bounds. He snorted derisively and suddenly stood, tossing a handful of credit chits on the counter before stalking away. I berated myself for my stupidity as I watched him disappear into the shadows, knowing full well I had likely botched my assignment.

I sighed irritably and focused on the menial duties of my job, starting first by disposing of my target's beverage. I suspected he would return as, per Aria's intelligence, his contacts frequented the VIP lounge. It was only a matter of time, but I would need to be all the more careful in my next engagement with him. I could not afford to drive him off yet again. I would need to be subtle.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

Chapter 14

I awaited my target's return, going about my duties as expected, all the while berating myself for my clumsiness. I could not afford to chase away targets as it would hinder my intended objective. Part of my job was to take out my targets without complication, either by making the hit look like an accident, or pinning the blame anywhere but Omega. Such a task was difficult enough to accomplish in and of itself, and the absence of a target's unknowing cooperation made it near impossible.

I had thought to use a poison popular on Illium, thereby diverting attention from Aria and Omega. However, if I could not get close to my target outside of the bar, achieving my objective would be rather difficult and lacking in the finesse I had come to appreciate. I despised shoddy workmanship.

Three nights after my fumbled attempt at conversation my target returned. Relief swept through my body and I forced myself to relax as excitement followed. I enjoyed the hunt, the game, seeking out the weaknesses in my targets without rousing their suspicions. It gave me focus knowing that their deeds had earned Aria's attentions and, per her order, mine as well.

He scanned the lounge, gazing out across the crowds as before, and again his eyes paused as he spied the bar. Once again I feigned disinterest as he approached, busying myself with other patrons and their orders. I continued the charade as he sat down, allowing my turian counterpart to fill his order. Once again he requested a scotch neat, and I observed him out of the corner of my eye as he sipped his beverage.

It wasn't until the rush died down that he motioned me over, leaning on the countertop, his glass empty. I tucked my cleaning rag into my pocket and reached for the bottle of scotch. He nodded in appreciation as I refilled his glass, catching my eye as I put the bottle away.

"Is there something else I can get you?" I asked, my tone purposefully curt.

He shook his head, a wry smile on his face. "No, but I _do_ want to apologize for the other night."

"Oh?" I tried to keep my face neutral as I pulled the rag from my pocket. There was a spot on the counter that required my attention and I scrubbed at it vigorously. It was easy to remain aloof when at work, the many chores serving as useful distractions.

His smile faltered slightly as he took another sip of his drink. "I was in here the other night and I'm afraid I was rather rude."

I said nothing, preferring to remain silent and focused on that damnable spot. I scrubbed harder.

"I guess you could say I had a bad day," he paused as if in thought, searching for the right words. "I believe you were just trying to be friendly and I was ungracious. I apologize."

I halted my work, certain that the spot was forever ingrained in the countertop, and met his eyes. They were hooded in shadow, but seemed almost to twinkle in the dim light. I straightened and turned my full attention on him.

"Apology accepted." I shoved the rag back into my pocket.

He stuck out his hand in the traditional human greeting. "I'm Guy. Guy Herman."

I was unable to keep the surprise from my face, although there truly was no need. A civil, proper greeting was considered a rarity on Omega unless firearms were involved.

I gripped his hand with my own, noting the smooth skin of his palm, the firm grasp of his fingers. I introduced myself as Nya and smiled inwardly. He had used a false name and it was only fair that I should as well. Excitement swelled in my veins once more. The game was afoot.

We visited for a time, the pulse of the VIP lounge occasionally drowning our conversation. I often excused myself to care for other patrons and assist Xel, the other bartender on duty, but always I returned to him. I remained aloof, but appeared interested enough to hold his attention. I had learned that men, especially human men, liked a bit of a challenge so long as it didn't strain their stamina overmuch. If they wanted a chase, then I would oblige. I had intimate knowledge of how to play the prey.

For two weeks we played the game. He would enter the bar, search out his contacts, and meet with me after. Always he would drink a scotch neat, and always I would fill his order. We would discuss random topics, be it his love of antiquities or scotch, and I would lament the scarcity of genuine chocolate. I occasionally questioned him about his business, which he was more than happy to lie about. I found the ease with which untruths passed between his lips amusing, and I listened with rapt attention, although secretly my patience was wearing thin.

It was during the second week of our game that he informed me he would be leaving Omega for a business trip. He expected to be gone at least two weeks and I did not need to feign disappointment. I had put in quality time with my target and now he was leaving? I briefly contemplated the idea of taking him out to the alley and terminating him there, but it lacked art and would be too easily identified as murder. His contacts would suspect foul play and bring Aria unwanted attention. Such a complication would mean I had failed in my duty.

I never failed in my duty.

I cursed my luck, and covered my irritation with a hopeful smile. Perhaps he would not be gone as long as he believed. I poured him a drink and tried to engage him in conversation once more. He shot me a now familiar grin and took his usual seat at the bar. I asked him about his business trip but he responded with only vague answers. I did not press the issue given the results of our first meeting, but I believed he would tell me in time. If not, I could always gather the intelligence after disposing of him. After all, I still had a job to do.

O o O o O o O

For two weeks I tended bar, relegated to Limbo while I awaited my target's return. I kept my eyes and ears open, recognizing a few of his contacts, but never did they meet without Guy present. It seemed he was the glue that connected them and I filed that interesting bit of information away. One never knew what tiny fact may come in handy in the future. I had learned during my time with Aria that information, no matter how seemingly irrelevant, was still a commodity.

It was at the start of my shift, exactly two weeks later, when Guy returned. He stalked up to the bar with purpose, his usual scan of the area omitted in his hurry. I awaited his pleasure with a satisfied smile upon my lips and readied his scotch. He took his usual seat at the bar and sipped on his drink, eyes alight with excitement. I had not long to wait before we engaged once more in our usual banter, barely a hint of the absence that had separated us.

"So I was thinking…" his voice trailed off as he turned his glass, the amber liquid swirling within.

"Yes?" I feigned curiosity. I had seen that look in men's eyes before and excited anticipation flooded my veins; and something else, an emotion that I couldn't quite pinpoint. I ignored the fluttering in my belly and focused once more on Guy.

"I'd like to take you out for dinner some night, Nya. If that's okay with you?"

I plastered a surprised look on my face, brows raised and eyes bright. I froze, embellishing the effect before appearing to steady myself. I babbled something incoherent and looked around nervously, inwardly satisfied at the goofy smile that curled his lips. I fidgeted with the bar towel before gradually meeting his eyes.

"I have to work."

I watched as he nodded slowly, the goofy smile fading from his face. Almost without thought I reacted, surprising myself as the words tumbled from my lips.

"I'm not sure, but I may be able to switch shifts – trade Xel for the early shift." The fluttering feeling in my belly returned, as did the goofy smile on his face.

"I'd like that." He said, and then his attention was wrenched away from me as his omni-tool beeped.

I cringed inwardly at the instrument's incredibly poor timing and almost violently wrung the towel out in my frustration. I focused on the pain of my grip as my knuckles whitened, cathartic actions hidden beneath the countertop. It would not do for Guy to witness my small temper tantrum. He turned his full attention back to me after downing the rest of his drink. I quickly released my grip and suppressed a wince as the blood flowed back into my fingers.

"Sorry about that. I need to go."

I nodded, understanding yet disappointed.

"Are you working tomorrow night?"

"Yes. I'll be here."

A brilliant smile lit up his face and excitement once more flooded my veins, my brief moment of anger dissipating into the ether.

"Good. I'll see you then." And then he was gone, vacating the barstool with such speed that it was left spinning in his wake.

I pulled his glass from the counter and set it in the wash bin, the automatic cleaner activating immediately. An eager sigh escaped my lips as I wiped down the counter, my thoughts wandering idly as the fluttering in my belly persisted. This was a welcome change of pace and I found myself wishing for it to be tomorrow night. I had a game to play and as much as I liked to draw it out, I still had an objective to achieve. Also, I was not entirely averse to the idea of dinner with a handsome man, target or no.

Guy was as good as his word. He returned the next evening, and I felt my nerves tingle with excitement at the sight of him. He scanned the crowds upon entering the lounge per usual, then took his seat at the bar. I nodded to him in acknowledgement as I filled the orders of the merc captain before me. Guy smiled sweetly, waving Xel away as he waited for me to complete my duties.

I took the captain's proffered payment and, when no additional orders were forthcoming, approached Guy. Tossing my bar towel onto my shoulder I fixed him his usual drink. His eyes watched me work and I was ever aware of his gaze. My heart pounded within my chest and the fluttering in my belly returned. I chalked it up to nervous energy as I presented him with his scotch. His took a welcome sip, eyes never leaving mine.

"Nya," he set his drink back down on the counter, the ice cubes tinkling ever so slightly against the glass. "I want you to have dinner with me on your next night off."

I feigned a nervous giggle, sounding once more inane to my ears, but Guy seemed to eat it up. The same goofy smile graced his face, the flickering lights reflected in his eyes, and I found myself almost breathless. In that moment, he was utterly beautiful to me.

I found myself briefly at a loss for words, feebly attempting to gather my wits before making an even bigger fool of myself. "I don't know, Guy."

He took another sip of his scotch, a determined look on his face as he waved over Xel. I turned toward the turian who shot me a curious look, mandibles fluttering slightly. He finished up his tasks and eventually made his way over, crossing his arms almost irritably as he appraised Guy.

"What?" he asked curtly.

Guy met my eyes and I thought I caught a glint of humor in their shadowed depths. "I need to borrow Nya tomorrow evening. Will that be a problem?"

Again Xel's mandibles fluttered and I recognized his expression as one of surprise. Xel was aware that I had used aliases in the past, as did many female bartenders, but there was no way he could know I actually _wanted_ this date with Guy. I quickly intervened, clearing my throat to gain his attention rather conspicuously.

"I told Guy that I would have tomorrow night off if you agreed to trade shifts with me."

Xel shot me another curious glance.

"I could use a night off, Xel."

Again a curious look and he wiped a hand down his face as if in resignation. "Fine. I'll change it on the schedule, but you better be able to make it in by first shift tomorrow."

I smiled brilliantly at Xel, noticing the look of excitement on Guy's face out of the corner of my eye. Yes, I could play at being coy, at being excited, nervous at dining with a handsome stranger. I could let him pursue me, allow him to believe he had the upper hand, all the while enjoying the company and information he provided. He was playing my game unwittingly and I relished the chase.

Guy remained at the bar until my shift ended and offered to escort me home. I refused him at first, but so insistent was he that I was forced to relent. I grabbed my jacket, carefully securing my knives within and out of sight. Weapons had a tendency to raise suspicion and drive targets away. I was too far involved in the game to risk such an act and suffered the discomfort. I zipped up my jacket and crossed my arms almost protectively as we walked through the alleys toward my apartment. I ignored the building heat and the bulge of my knives beneath my clothing, and attempted to maintain the aloof persona I had cultivated.

We chatted amiably, ignoring the random vagrants that dotted the streets, focusing instead on pleasant conversation. I innocently questioned him about his business trip, unsurprised at his vague answers. Once more I ignored the lack of specific information, choosing not to pursue any topic he obviously did not want to discuss.

I paused as we approached my alley, my apartment just around the corner. His body was lit by the garish glow of the street lamps, highlighting the chiseled line of his jaw. I met his eyes in the lamplight, noticing for the first time that they were grey and sparkling with desire. I felt fluttering in my belly once more as nervous energy coursed through my veins.

He cupped my face in his hand, running a smooth finger across my lips. "Can I kiss you goodnight, Nya?"

A ripple of confusion followed the wave of nervous energy, and I doubted my ears. He was asking my permission? I was unaccustomed to such manners, such courtesy, and I stuttered as I tried to form a response.

"Y-yes."

It was a chaste kiss and his lips were feather light, yet firm against my own. Scorching heat pooled within and I was loath to tear myself from his touch, but I could not afford to lose control of my senses. I had already pushed the game too far this night, and yet I wanted more.

"I have little to offer, but would you like to come inside?" The words spilled out before I realized I had spoken. Mentally I berated myself and my impulse of folly. Such rookie mistakes would be my death.

"I would love to, but I must decline." He brushed my lips with his thumb, my skin aching with want at his touch. "I have an early morning meeting tomorrow and a special evening I must plan."

I sighed, unsure if I was grateful that he had declined. "Very well," I sputtered. "I will see you tomorrow night, then."

He shot me a brilliant smile before he turned to leave, the image of his grey eyes etched in my memory. I stood immobilized for a time, watching his form disappear into the maze of Omega's alleyways, running over the night's events in my mind. Where had I gone wrong? Where had I lost my better senses? Why had I invited him in?

I reminded myself he was a target, repeating the fact over and over again like a mantra, clinging to it as if it was the very fabric of my reality. The echo of his kiss had faded and I steadied myself once more upon entering my apartment just in time to receive Aria's communiqué. I brushed a hand down my face, certain it was still flushed, but unable to do anything about it, and answered her call.

"Report."

"I've made contact." I stated bluntly. "We have a date tomorrow night. It seems he's taken a shine to me."

Aria snorted, her image flickering slightly in the holo. "That's no surprise, Jin."

"I believe I will have sufficient opportunity tomorrow's eve to terminate."

Slight lines creased her brow as she frowned ever so slightly in thought. "No. Keep him alive for now. Get close to him and see what he knows, and then terminate. We might as well get some use out of him while we still can."

Fear slithered up my spine, icy claws digging into my flesh at her orders. I suppressed a shudder, glad that I had kept my jacket on. Never before had I been confused regarding a target, and I fought for control of my emotions. I would not lose face in front of Aria, and so nodded brusquely.

"Affirmative. I will keep you updated."

"Have fun," Aria smirked and then cut the connection. I was left alone in the dark of my apartment, surrounded with a thick blanket of silence.

Fun indeed.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

Chapter 15

He was loud. He was obnoxious. And he was sitting at my bar.

I had vowed to myself upon starting my shift that I would focus my emotions and steady my resolve. I had a job to do, and no matter how charming my target could be, his termination was still my main objective. I was a professional. Emotion had no control over me. I realized how untrue such a belief was when presented with the lout in front of me.

The opening shift had started off per usual. I restocked the wells, cleaned up the remnants of last night's shift, and attended to the patrons who were still accustomed to alternative hours. Although Omega had no distinct day or night cycles, Aria kept a strict schedule and those of us in her employ functioned within and around it. She was the chrono by which we set our designs.

He strode in as if he owned the lounge, cocky swagger reeking of ego as he made his way to the bar. I sighed inwardly, still disturbed by last night's emotional quandary, reluctant to engage this new irritant. I paid him little mind, filling his order with minimal effort, and then proceeded to ignore him as best I was able. My attempts, however, were futile.

His manner was obnoxious and his complaints were many. After taking the first sip of his beverage he bemoaned the lack of alcohol and attentive service. After finishing his second drink, his gravelly voice grated on my nerves, harsh and disapproving. After filling his third drink, I was subject to his deprecating humor, his criticisms of the establishment, and overall disapproval of Omega. I grew irate.

Sickened by his behavior and with my own lack of restraint, I grabbed the bottle of bourbon and slammed it down next to him. "You, sir, disgust me. Serve your damn self!"

A corner of his mouth curled up into a wry smile. "Why thank you, my dear. Perhaps I was wrong about the service after all?"

I breathed deeply, steadying myself and calming my nerves, the knowledge of the knife tucked in my boot ever present in the forefront of my mind. As much as silencing him appealed to me, I had no desire to stain the counter with his blood. Human blood was difficult to clean up, and I felt no need to exact the added effort. Instead, I escaped to the opposite end of the bar, leaving my counterpart to address the lout's needs.

My attempt at peace was in vain as he followed, making himself once more comfortable on the barstool directly in front of me. I tossed my towel onto my shoulder and met his eyes with a steely glare of my own.

"What." I stated bluntly, my breath steady, my nerves even. He would not get the better of me.

"I wanted to be close to you." Sarcasm dripped from his lips as the infuriating smile returned to his face.

"That's not going to get you free drinks," I shot back and was rewarded with a bark of laughter.

He shook his head in mock disappointment, his eyes never leaving mine. The dim lights of the club shadowed his features, the angular line of his jaw sharpened only by the flash of the erratic iridescence from the railing. He cocked a dark eyebrow, teeth sparkling white in the flickering shadows.

"That won't stop me from trying."

I sighed, doing nothing to hide my annoyance. I had dealt with characters such as him before, who although exasperating at times, soon abandoned their coy attempts and wandered elsewhere. I expected him to be no different.

I was wrong.

He remained seated at the counter well into my shift, sipping slowly from his latest drink, tempo decreased dramatically from his earlier pace. Curious, I questioned him.

"There's actually alcohol in my glass now," he quipped.

"You, sir, _are_ drinking bourbon straight."

Again that infuriating smile returned. "Exactly."

I busied myself with the few duties I could find, aching for distraction from the obnoxious individual who seemed determined to pester me. I had cleaned the wells, cleaned the counter, and cleaned the floors. I had sent my counterpart away so as to manage the bar alone, but no crowds were forthcoming, and the lounge remained relatively empty. I cursed my foul luck and racked my brain for other chores with which to busy myself.

Although cleaning the lounge would have been an option, I had trapped myself behind the counter when I sent the other bartender away. I met the lout's eyes once more and swore under my breath. That damnable smile returned, white teeth flashing again as he looked at me expectantly.

"Come drink with me." He patted the counter in front of him almost playfully. "Or are you not allowed?"

Ignoring his teasing tone, I sighed again, reluctantly filling a glass. I did not drink because he suggested it, but rather because I wanted to. Perhaps a bourbon shooter would dull the irritation his continued presence seemed to evoke.

I tossed my head back, the smooth liquid burning slightly as it went down and pooling in my belly. Warmth permeated my core, suffused my limbs, and I poured another. He held up his glass in a mock salute and I topped it off unthinking. Another smile graced his lips, absent malice, absent ego; a simple smile for an unexpected treat.

We drank in uncomfortable silence, his obnoxious behavior conspicuously absent now that he held my attention. I had few other options to pass the time and so attempted to engage him in conversation, reluctant as I was. He cocked an eyebrow at my attempt, setting his empty glass before me for another refill. I complied, awaiting his response, a mix of irritation and boredom stirring within.

He held his glass up as if inspecting the contents, the flickering lights throwing oddly colored shadows across his face. "Shall we have a contest?"

I frowned, unsure if I wanted to pursue my attempts at meaningless conversation if this was to be the result. "What kind of contest?"

He gestured broadly to the lounge behind him, the wry smile polluting his countenance. "A drinking contest, of course. What other possible contest would one have in a bar?"

"How delightfully juvenile," I murmured. Once more a sigh of annoyance escaped my lips and I set my empty glass aside. "I've got work to do. I'm not about to get drunk."

His grin broadened teasingly. "Suddenly shy, are we?" He nodded as if in understanding. "I wouldn't risk losing either, if I were you. Humiliation is a painful burden to bear."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, unwilling to provide him with the satisfaction, the knowledge of how truly irritated I was. My exasperation would only serve to heighten his pleasure, enlarge his ego, and his antics would most likely increase exponentially. Instead, I set my glass in the auto-wash and began scrubbing the counters down once more.

He frowned, the wry smile fading. "Didn't you already do that?"

"I told you I have to work."

He shrugged, uncaring, and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by an approaching drunk, one of several patrons who had arrived earlier in my shift.

"Barkeep!" she shouted over the counter.

I swallowed my disdain and shot her a questioning look.

"We want to dance. Turn up the music!"

I nodded, grateful for the distraction, and increased the volume as requested. Bass thundered through the lounge, and she laughed gleefully, dancing in time to the music and waving to her comrades. I watched as she stumbled onto the dance floor with the rest of her party, not at all enviable of the withdrawals she would experience in the near future. Overindulgence was an activity I had never quite understood.

I returned to my duties, ignoring the lout as best I was able, made all the easier by the deafening rumble of the music. He futilely continued in his attempts to gain my attention, only desisting when I crossed to the other side of the bar. His eyes followed me, but I cared not. Remaining aloof was not always a façade.

Another hour crawled by and still he remained. He flagged me down for a refill of his drink and I grudgingly complied, willing him to vacate the area and leave me be. He contemplated his glass momentarily before shouting at me over the din of the music.

"What are you doing after work?"

It took a moment for me to register his words and even longer to understand his meaning. I paused in my duties and considered him. "What do you care?"

Once again he smiled wryly and met my gaze, eyes sparkling as the lights of the lounge flashed. "I thought we could, perhaps, have a proper conversation?"

"Not likely," I snorted, returning to my chores. "I have plans."

"Oh?" He cocked an inquiring eyebrow. "And who's the lucky fellow might I ask?"

My temper flared at his audacity, his teasing tone still recognizable over the music. I'm sure my irritation was plainly visible to him and his smile brightened. My patience was running thin and my frustration got the better of me.

"His name's Guy," I stated curtly. "Now if you'll excuse me I've got work to do."

He burst out laughing and I was painfully aware it was at my expense. The mirth was plain on his face and he did nothing to hide his amusement.

"Guy? His parents must have been quite the imaginative types I suspect." Another round of laughter spilled from drunken lips, and he shook his head as if in resignation. "I'm sure they had fond hopes of mediocrity for him, this Guy."

Indignation, pure and simple rippled through my body and I stilled, defensive. "As if your name's any better."

His laughter died, fading into the noise of the music surrounding us. Satisfaction warmed my veins and I once more wiped the counter down, eyeing the lout sidelong. I had finally managed to shut him up, and although I wasn't exactly sure how I had accomplished such a feat, I was nonetheless contented with his sudden disquiet.

I watched as he downed the rest of his beverage and quickly stood, straightening his jacket. He paid his tab without a word, any hint of his wry smile absent, and departed. I was left behind the counter as before, alone, a mix of confusion and relief brewing within. I was not sorry that he had left, but curiosity bade me question why he did so in such a hurried manner. I would likely never know as I doubted I would ever see him again.

It was not long thereafter that my shift ended and I returned to my apartment, readying myself for the night ahead. I took a roundabout route home, wary of the unfamiliar vagrants and vendors lining the streets. The garish glow from Omega's industrial lights lit my path and did little to obscure the grime of the alleys, almost emphasizing it at times.

I completed my usual ritual upon entering my apartment and, satisfied that no one had trespassed, I stripped off my clothes and showered. The compartment was tiny and I often banged my elbows against the walls, but it was a luxury that few apartments could claim. I had running water - _hot_ water at that - and fluffy towels with which to dry. There were few amenities in which I took greater pleasure. Although I still occasionally longed for the large tub in Arch's rooms in which I used to soak, I contented myself with my present surroundings, satisfied in the knowledge that I had earned it. The shower, the apartment, the fluffy towels belonged only to me.

Tossing aside my towel I dressed, choosing a modest outfit suited to the shy persona I had created for Guy. He seemed an interesting enough man, courteous and cultured, charming and worldly. He was the exact opposite of the lout in the lounge. Irritation flared anew as memories of his antics surfaced, his cocky swagger, his wry smile. I despised the fact that he had annoyed me so, affected me, and elicited such stirrings within. Between the lout and Guy I realized I was in dire need of regaining emotional control. I was not about to let such men be my undoing.

As much as I understood men's pleasures, their desires, they still confounded me and I wondered if I would ever be able to fully comprehend them. They prided themselves on bravery and yet I knew many who cowered before my blade ended them. These same men pursued women of standing and breeding, but often preferred the company of strippers and whores. They murdered, they stole, they conspired and betrayed, but still they grew upset when their honor was called into question. Their very nature was a dichotomy and almost all species of men seemed to share these traits. I had yet to meet an exception.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

A/N: Thanks to my beta, drakontion, for putting up with me and to everyone following along.

Chapter 16

I smoothed my dress as we entered the restaurant, the soft fabric lightly clinging to my frame and enhancing my slight curves. I had chosen it for modesty's sake, showing very little skin compared to most feminine attire I had been subject to, maintaining my false persona as best I was able. Guy seemed to appreciate it by the way he stared, a goofy smile upon his face as I opened the door. The nervous energy returned, pooling in my belly and I fought for control. I would make no rookie mistakes this night.

Soft music played in the background, a classic fantasia that sounded vaguely familiar. Chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, dripping with crystals and showering brilliant flecks of light onto the tasteful décor. I marveled at the mix of architecture, reminiscent of the second asari renaissance and modern, clean lines. Living statues dotted the room, golden bodies shifting subtly in the candlelight. I was left breathless by the beauty of the place. Never before had I witnessed such a delight.

A light touch on the small of my back captured my attention and I wrenched my eyes from the scenery to meet his of soft grey. A charming smile graced Guy's lips and he gestured to the room before us.

"You've never been here before?" His eyes sparkled teasingly.

I was speechless, and so shook my head, my gaze scanning the restaurant. Luxurious booths lined two walls while simple, square tables provided additional seating. I noted the tables were not bolted to the floor and could be upended with minimal effort should the need arise for impromptu cover. Exits were visible and easily accessible. Seven servers meandered between the tables, two bartenders were stationed behind the counter, and from what I could see, at least ten staff were on duty within the kitchen. A single host awaited our pleasure behind a podium, reworked and restored from what appeared to be actual wood. Needless to say, I was impressed.

"Shall we proceed to your table?"

Guy looked to me briefly before nodding. We followed our host to a table nestled against the wall, crystal stemware sparkling in the glow from a single candle, what looked to be actual beeswax dripping down the side. Fabric linens were folded in decorative patterns, the deep, golden hue contrasting beautifully with the crisp white of the tablecloth. I ran my fingers over the fabric appreciatively before sitting down, the cushions of the chair conforming to my body. Guy had chosen his destination well.

"I never knew such a restaurant existed on Omega." I stated plainly, my eyes still drawn to the beauty in the room.

"I know people." He stated enigmatically, grey eyes crinkling with mirth as he activated his menu. The blue glow of the holo splashed color onto his face and I openly observed him as he studied it.

I folded my hands in my lap, allowing my curiosity and awe to show through. "What do you recommend?"

He paused and met my gaze through the menu holo. "That depends on what you are in the mood for."

I smiled shyly and looked away as if embarrassed by dual meaning of his words. I recognized the smile which returned to his face and satisfaction spread through my veins. He either enjoyed this creature - this persona I had created, or he believed such a lovely restaurant would surely win me over. Either way, he was mine.

"I must admit I am at a loss." I relied coyly. "Why don't you order for me?"

He appeared pleased at my suggestion as his eyes brightened. "If you're sure?"

I nodded and smiled warmly at him, rewarded with a flicker of heat in his gaze. That he desired me I had no doubt, although I was not entirely sure why. I did not consider myself a beauty by any stretch of the imagination, and I was not blind to the wealth of sensuality of the many dancers, human and asari, that were also in Aria's employ. And so my mind briefly debated my attributes as we waited for the server to take our order.

I had kept my hair short, preferring the simplicity of the cut. Long hair reminded me of time spent with Arch, and I needed no additional reminders. I had enough as is. My nose was too wide, my hips too narrow, and my breasts too small. Sex did not trail in my wake as it did for so many others that I had been privileged to meet, and power did not radiate off me in waves as it did Aria. I considered myself average, plain even, and yet here I was with Guy in a place of such refined beauty. I felt akin to a dark stain on an otherwise pristine landscape.

"Are we ready to order?" The server asked. "Or would you like more time?"

My attention was wrenched away from my musings and I shot Guy a light smile as if to make up for my wandering thoughts. He did as I asked and ordered for both of us, and despite my ulterior motives, I looked forward to my evening with him. As evidenced by the restaurant, his taste was extravagant, and again I wondered as to his interest in me.

We made polite conversation as the server poured our wine, glasses still sparkling against the glow of the candle. I asked him about his business, curious as to what lies he would create. Apparently, Guy fancied himself an antiquities dealer for an asari merchant on Illium, specializing in Prothean artifacts.

I swallowed my laughter at such a bold fiction, hiding my knowledge with another sip of rich wine. According to Aria's intelligence, Guy was an information broker, and he had certainly crossed her in order to end up as my target. Such dishonesty eased my discomfort, settling the nervous energy in my belly. My time with Guy would be all the more enjoyable the less emotion involved.

Our food arrived in a timely fashion, hot and steaming. Guy had ordered a classic asari dish for me, one that I was familiar with but unable to pronounce. I feigned surprise and satisfaction, much to his delight, and strove to eat as delicately as possible. However, the white sauce still spattered onto the table and onto my face. I tried to hide my embarrassment, but desisted when I noticed Guy's reaction. My clumsiness seemed almost endearing to him, and he shifted in his seat to dab at the sauce on my cheek.

The fluttering in my core returned, hot and insistent, and overwhelming my control. I could feel the flush of my cheeks and moved to hide it with another sip of wine, the liquid only serving to further spread the warmth throughout. Flustered by this new sensation, I inadvertently met his gaze, the heat of Guy's eyes matching my own.

I quickly glanced away, not to remain aloof, but for fear of the stirrings within. I recognized the hunger in his eyes; hunger which mirrored my own.

We finished our meal accompanied by stilted, awkward conversation. I spoke of inconsequential things, such as the miraculous plague cure and the sudden drop in mercenary activity. I recognized his lack of interest as I cared little for the topics as well. I soon abandoned my attempts, not wishing to further stunt my cause. There was little need for conversation as the heat between us was palpable, wine doing nothing to stem the flow of lust. Attempt at coherent thought was difficult and I struggled to maintain my focus, my thoughts drifting to other, more vigorous activity.

A break in the tension arrived in the form of our server. She cleared our plates and refilled our wine glasses, offering to provide us with another bottle. Guy accepted her offer, his eyes smoldering with desire as he met my own. I had no doubt another bottle of wine was not in my best interest, but I was too far gone in my tempest to care. I had thought to retain control this eve, to play Guy as one would an instrument. Instead I was lost to him as I had no doubt he was well aware.

A drop of red spilled onto the crisp white of the table cloth as the server filled our glasses. Guy held his up in toast, the crystal goblets ringing like playful chimes as they met. We drank in silence, his grey eyes sliding over my body. I endeavored to remain aloof, to keep my gaze off the line of his jaw, the curve of his neck, and I failed utterly. I found myself blatantly admiring the form of the man before me, the haze of wine dulling my resolve.

I had thought my situation could grow no worse, but I was wrong. Guy refilled my glass and ordered dessert. Our server arrived with a single plate topped with a decadent, chocolate mousse. I felt my mouth water in anticipation, and even though I no longer hungered for food, I could not resist.

I watched his eyes light up as Guy smiled mischievously. He dipped his spoon into the dessert and held it out, tempting me. Greedily, I complied. An explosion of flavor danced over my tongue, the mix of wine and chocolate heady indeed. Never would I have believed chocolate could be so incredibly sensual, but I was happy to learn a new lesson, and so I continued to indulge.

We took turns, feeding each other, teasing each other. The mousse became only a prop in our play, a reason to move even closer, to touch, to lick the delectable dessert from long fingers. I nearly melted when his lips brushed my hand, savoring the warmth of his breath, the feel of his skin against my own.

He was slow, deliberate, and methodical, and I soon forgot the plate of mousse before me. My attention was focused solely on him and the heat he elicited. I was drunk on lust, consumed with my need for him, and I watched his grey eyes dance with delight.

Our server arrived again and we paid her little mind. Guy addressed the bill and we exited quite hastily, the bottle of wine left half-empty upon the crisp, white table. We left the sparkling chandeliers and living statues behind as we made our way through the grime of the streets, barely aware of anything but each other. The vagrants bothered us not, the vendor's cries went unanswered, and before I realized, we had arrived at the end of my alley.

Reality settled in with surprising clarity, pulsating through my veins with the force of a hammer's blow. As much as I wanted to I could not invite him in. While I could explain away the fume hood, the function of the distillery and incubation system in my tiny kitchen would raise questions I could not answer. No, he could not come in, could not know who and what I really was.

Frustration blossomed within, driving all warmth from me. I was left with the ghost of his touch, the echo of his kisses as I pulled abruptly away from him. He shot me a quizzical look, and I pushed aside the _need_ still coursing through me.

"It's late," I stammered.

"Oh?" I recognized a hint of strain underlying the velvety smoothness of his voice as he moved closer, tantalizingly so.

"I have to work tomorrow." I could think of no other rationale for my abrupt change in behavior, and proceeded to step away from him.

"Perhaps next time, then," he suggested. A question flashed in his eyes as he reached for my hand and pressed his lips to my palm. Heat flushed once more within my core and I had to fight to maintain control.

I could not help but smile at him then. "Yes. Next time."

He shot me another brilliant smile before leaving my side, his movements seemingly rigid and uncomfortable. Once again I watched him disappear into Omega's alleyways, the taste of him still on my lips. I stood for a time, reviewing the night's events, regaining control of my senses. _Need_ still pounded within my veins and I felt the faded memory of manacles cool against my skin. I gripped my wrists and shivered, but with desire or disgust I could not say.

It was as I turned toward my apartment that I noticed a familiar face, almost hidden within the shadows. The Lout had followed me home. I made no move toward him, showed no hint of recognition, and continued on my way as if he had never been. Instead of heading directly to my apartment I took a meandering route through the alleys. I had no intention of leading him to my abode.

To my great relief he did not follow, and I hurried inside lest he catch sight of me. I was at a loss to discern his intentions, but was unwilling to assume it was nothing more than drunken infatuation. The Lout could not know where I lived, could not have inadvertently stumbled across my path without planned intent.

There was a new player in the game and I had yet to uncover his motives.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

A/N: I decided to post this chapter a week early since I will not be able to update next week. My apologies.

Chapter 17

Aria was pleased with my progress so far, although I could safety say I did not agree with her. I was ashamed. I had lost control, lost my balance, and for a single, passionate moment, I would have gladly shed my cover to feel him inside of me.

I was enraged by that reality. That weakness.

I decided to use my anger to maintain control. I would drink no wine, refuse to indulge in his niceties, and remember my place. I was a professional after all, and romantic escapades would have no effect on me. Guy was my target and he would die by my hand no matter how warm his touch, no matter how sweet his lips. My anger would sharpen my resolve and guide my hand. He would have no control over me.

I was Jin. I was no man's thoughtless whore.

I readied myself for work, scrubbing his scent from my body even as I banged my elbows against the shower stall. It was during such still, common moments in my life that reality seemed fair and fitting. I could have been anybody, could have left Omega on some dusty freighter and taken my chances amidst the stars, but it was not to be. Omega was a part of me, my home, and I had decided to remain.

I owed Aria no debt as I did not ask for her aid. If anything, I had repaid her tenfold in my duties, my shadowed services always in high demand. She favored me with a sort of companionship, professional respect, and continued employment. It was a stream of normalcy for me, and I found that consistency a constant source of comfort.

I also found the quieter times between and during assignments steadying. The game could drag on for weeks, months even; and while my patience occasionally ran thin, I found the growing anticipation heightened my pleasure and made the kill that much more satisfying. At times I was almost reluctant to end the hunt as it would mean the game was over, but I never failed in my duty. Always, however, the future contained yet another assignment. I would not lack for work. Aria had a plethora of enemies _and_ friends in need of disposing.

I slipped my knife into my boot, the familiar weight comforting, and tossed on my jacket as I walked out the door. My omni-tool chimed softly as my apartment's locking mechanisms activated and I made my way through the alleys to the VIP lounge. I still had my cover to maintain and work to be done. As mundane as bartending oft seemed to be, it served well enough as a useful distraction from the more exciting bits of my employ. I was perfectly satisfied for the time being.

The lounge was filled with the usual patrons when I arrived and Xel immediately put me to work filling their orders. I scurried around, quickly matching his pace before I recognized a familiar face. The nameless Lout reclined lazily in a shadowed corner, sipping on his beverage. Irritation flooded my veins as I remembered his presence in the alley last night, and myriad conspiracy theories churned within my thoughts.

I had no doubt he was sent to observe me, but for what purpose I could not fathom. He was not in Aria's employ, of that I was certain. I had long known she used others to monitor my progress, and although they remained unseen, I was not unaware of their presence. It was the only explanation for her immediate knowledge of my successes.

No, he was not one of Aria's and I questioned his connection to Guy. I had not seen them engage in any formal activity, but his arrival was too closely timed with Guy's to be mere coincidence. I had time only briefly to ponder the possibility of their association before he presented himself before me, glass empty and an expectant expression upon his face.

"Ready for a refill?" Although his request was obvious, I asked anyway, doing little to hide the irritation in my voice.

"What gave it away?" His eyes sparkled darkly in the flashing lights and I ignored the sarcasm dripping from his lips.

I grabbed the bottle of bourbon, memory serving me well, and filled his request with the hope that he would return to his seat in the shadows. As per usual, my hopes carried little weight. He settled on to the barstool and spun his drink almost listlessly. His glass ground against the counter, the scratching noise setting my nerves aflame.

"Will you desist?" I pinched the bridge of my nose, pushing aside the many lovely images of torture that I desperately desired to inflict upon him.

He seemed aware of my discomfiture and to my surprise, complied with my request. "You seem on edge today. Something bothering you?"

Again my irritation flared, but I covered my displeasure by vigorously scrubbing the countertop. "Not your business."

"And how, she says." The Lout took a large swallow of his bourbon and slammed the glass down on the counter, amber liquid sloshing over the sides. "Color me interested."

I paused in my chores as another customer approached. I filled his beverage order with alacrity, ignoring the Lout for a brief moment. I was back in his sights once again as soon as the other patron left.

"So go on. Tell me of your troubles."

I swallowed the retort tickling my lips, choosing instead to fix him with a steely glare. "I have no wish to share my thoughts with you."

"Oh yes," he nodded with feigned magnanimity. "I doubt my small brain could encompass the complexity of a woman's quandaries. I hope it would not be too much to ask for your assistance with enlightenment?"

A stream of vile curses swept viciously over my tongue, but I dared not speak them, dared not draw attention to my anger. Although no one batted an eyelash - or a membrane - at violence in the lower bar, the VIP lounge was a more sophisticated setting. I dared not earn Aria's ire by marring the reputation of her more upstanding club. Instead I settled for a verbal spat.

"I fear enlightenment is beyond your capacity, Sir. I daresay it requires those abilities which you seem to lack."

A deep, hearty laugh escaped his lips and he ran a hand through short-cropped hair. "Pray, tell me which abilities I am lacking?"

"Why should it matter to you?" I snorted.

"All the better with which to please you."

The sincere tone of his statement caught me off guard and I fumbled, suddenly at a loss for a witty retort. What manner of man was he who so carelessly flung sarcasm about as if varren dung? Why did he have the seemingly innate ability to irritate me so? I opened my mouth to spit out a sharp reply, but held my tongue when I espied Guy's entrance into the lounge.

He was dressed in a tailored jacket, clean lines molding to his form. Nervous energy fluttered in my belly once more and I was beside myself with an influx of emotion. As much as I struggled to contain my excitement at his arrival, I could not help but recall the previous night's mistakes. I had vowed to maintain control of the situation and forced my eager anticipation aside. He was my objective, not my lover.

Nevertheless, heat hovered in the air between us as Guy approached, tension crackling like sparks from fractured power cables. I barely noticed the slight frown darkening the Lout's face, so focused on my need to maintain control was I.

"Nya."

His voice was smoky and rich, dripping with lingering desire from the previous night. His use of my alias took me by surprise and I was suddenly reintroduced to reality. I covered my inner turmoil with a coy smile, turning away shyly and shuffling the bottles in the well. The resulting noise was harsh and grating to my ears, but served as a welcome distraction from the yearning welling up within me. Despite my struggle to categorize Guy as a target, an objective, I still found the fantasy of him deliciously enticing.

Grey eyes sparkled in the flickering lights. "I want to see you again."

"You're seeing me now," I quipped teasingly, ignoring the snort of derision from the Lout, his eyes never leaving my body. Instead of acknowledging him with an admonishment, I fixed Guy his usual drink, the glass clinking lightly as I set it on the counter before him.

"Thank you." It was a courtesy, a simple polite statement, but Guy's words still oozed with a passion that threatened to tear my control to shreds. The want in his eyes was echoed in his voice and I recognized the burning hunger from the previous night's near disaster. I felt a mix of lust and anger burn within me, focusing on the maelstrom of emotion as I gathered my wits.

"You're welcome." I managed to spit out the two words, thick with charm and laced with seduction. I was the master of this game, not him. Never him.

"If you two are quite done eyeballing each other, would you mind if I was able to get a refill of my drink?" The Lout's sharp voice caught me off guard and before realizing it, I shot him a venomous scowl.

"Any time, you know. Preferably now." He curled his lips in a cocky half-smile, the severity of his gaze at odds with the sarcastic lightness of his tone.

I smiled apologetically at Guy, secretly both thankful for and annoyed by the Lout's's timely interruption. Guy nodded in understanding and shifted to the next stool over, distancing himself from the obnoxious brat that had so rudely disrupted his flirtations.

Amber liquid once more filled the Lout's glass, minute bubbles swirling delicately within as he brought the beverage to his lips. I set the bottle before him as I had done previously, still managing to ignore him as best I was able. His eyes caught mine briefly as he set his glass back down and I was caught by the hardened wariness I saw within. Like most everyone on Omega, this man was more than he seemed.

"So what are you doing tomorrow evening?" Guy's voice slid through my thoughts once more and I redirected my full attention toward him. It would not do to give him the wrong impression and my shy smile was rewarded by one of his own.

"I do believe I have that evening off."

"Perfect." The eager brightness of his eyes seemed genuine and nervous energy exploded within me. My limbs seemed to tingle with excited anticipation and I saw no harm in displaying my reaction. Once more I was rewarded with his smile, traces of desire still lingering on his lips.

"You have something in mind?" I inquired. I was genuinely curious.

"I do." He took a sip of his drink, the lights from the dance floor throwing formless shadows over his face. "I thought I might cook supper for us."

I was intrigued; an invitation into his home as well as the promise of a home-cooked meal. Opportunity sometimes had a flair for the obvious. "I think I would like that."

"Yeah, I wonder what else he has in store," the Lout quipped, his gravelly voice sending shivers down my spine. I squelched the seed of irritation blossoming within, focusing once more on the control I was so desperately trying to maintain. I would let neither man best me.

Guy cleared his throat and attempted his invite again, the slight twitch of his jaw the only betrayal of his burgeoning ire. "I was able to procure something special from one of my business associates, authentic and grain fed."

"Oh?" I was indeed intrigued.

"I don't cook with anything less than Earthborn."

Another snort erupted from the Lout as he slouched in the shadows. "Yeah, you really want to eat what that _Guy's_ cooking." He downed the rest of his drink, the glass clattering loudly against the counter as he set it aside. "Probably an old eastern recipe: cream of _Guy_ something or other…."

His voice trailed off in what seemed a drunken slur, leaving his thought unfinished, yet understood. Again I shot him a venomous scowl, using my annoyance to hide the juvenile amusement bubbling up inside. I occasionally found humor in the absurd and I could not help but admit that the name "Guy" was indeed a horrible alias. I found myself almost idly wishing he had chosen a more imaginative name, then quickly discarded the thought. I was having more than enough difficulty focusing on my mission without cataloguing a list of sexy aliases.

Guy glanced at me expectantly, his countenance darkened slightly by the tactless humor of the man sitting beside him. I met his eyes once more, still struggling to bring my own warring emotions under control. I managed a curt nod and easy smile, lights flashing brightly on the dance floor behind me.

"What time do you want me?"


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

Chapter 18

I had not felt nervous until I stood before his door, the dull grey metal of the wall paneling mocking me in its ugly simplicity. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other while working up the courage to push the door chime, heels clicking lightly on the floor. Silently I berated myself for my display of childishness, struggling to control the torrent of emotion which bombarded me at the most inopportune times. It was wholly unlike me to be so captivated by a handsome face, by soft eyes and sensuous lips. By firm hands, hot on my body.

I wrenched my thoughts away from the pull of desire and jammed my finger into the control panel. A light flickered and I imagined I heard a soft chime sound within Guy's quarters. I waited impatiently, waves of nervous energy pounding in my ears, my heart-beat thundering loudly beneath my breast. I worried, twisting my fingers in the hem of my dress, the silken fabric tantalizingly cool against my skin. My belly fluttered as I heard movement behind the door and I bit my lip in anticipation. I could do this.

An easy smile and soft, grey eyes greeted me. Warmth drifted into the grimy hall from his apartment, a fresh spice on the air that hinted of familiarity – of home. The door slid fully open and Guy moved aside to let me in, gesturing broadly in welcome as he did so. My eyes never left his and we stood for a time in the entryway, the silly grin plastered upon my face mirroring his.

I started as a loud hiss followed by a pop caught my attention. Guy's brows shot up in surprise and he moved swiftly to the kitchen, inviting me to make myself at home almost as an afterthought. I pursed my lips in thought, once more re-aligning my wits, and put my surroundings to memory.

Various antiquities adorned the room, displayed in sturdy casings lit brightly from within. I was able to place a few and hid a smile when I recognized one in particular. A batarian fertility statue was brazenly fixed to the wall just off the entryway, illuminated with a backlight as if to emphasize the already curvaceous form. Guy certainly seemed to have interesting tastes.

His living quarters were larger than mine, enriched by simple, yet elegant details and finished with clean lines. A vid screen dominated the far wall, the current program a recreation of a planetside dusk. The lights were set low and the manufactured sun's glow bathed the plush furniture in a rich, golden hue. I stepped down from the entryway and sank into the nearest chair, the velvety richness of the fabric hugging my skin. Needless to say I was impressed, but a budding wariness stirred within.

I recognized no Prothean relics of which Guy claimed to be so fond.

Mindful of the knife strapped to my thigh, I adjusted my dress and turned to observe Guy's culinary expertise. While I had no doubt some men would find the idea of an armed woman enticing, I had no intent to test Guy's tastes as of yet. As much as I wanted to, I was not quite ready to tread those waters. I would need to demonstrate far greater control than I had, and Nya was far more coy than I by far. I had created her as such, and her persona would serve my purposes.

Steam rose from the dishes and drifted lazily into the air, hovering over Guy's head. The fresh scent of herbs were quickly warmed by the heat of the stove and their perfume tickled my senses,. The sizzling of the frying pan set my mouth to watering, and I could only guess as to its contents. Guy spied my curious gaze and shot me a delicious smile. I would know soon enough what he had planned, but he intended to draw out my anticipation.

I realized I wanted him to.

"Would you like a glass of wine?" He asked, the heat of the kitchen coloring his face with a delightful flush.

I nodded slowly, my eyes once more fixed on his. "I would."

His smile widened ever so slightly even as his eyes flickered with hunger. I stood, smoothing my dress as I moved into the kitchen, plucking a bottle from his selection above the cooler. He nodded at my choice and passed me a bottle opener. Our fingers met briefly and nervous energy once more electrified my senses at his slight touch. My loss of poise only served to mangle my attempt to pop the cork, breaking it instead. I swore, a guttural hiss under my breath, only to freeze as his touch was once more upon me.

Firm hands were hot upon my skin as his fingers gripped my bare shoulders. I could hear the smile in his voice as he whispered teasingly into my ear.

"Quite a bartender you are, my dear Nya."

My thoughts were a-jumble and words failed to form on my tongue. I relaxed slightly and leaned into him, the press of his body ever so close to my own. His hand snaked down my arm as he reached for the wine on the table.

"A perfectly palatable chardonnay." His warm breath tickled my neck and sent shivers racing down my spine. Desire hung in the air, thick as the steam, and I fought for control as he continued his game. "Whatever shall we do?"

On impulse I turned around, a wicked grin with which to greet him. Slowly I raised my arm, reaching toward the cabinet just behind him. I felt the heat of his body as the curve of my arm brushed his neck, the press of my breast separated from him by only thin layers of fabric. Hunger once more flickered in his eyes as I stood on my toes, reaching ever so tantalizingly behind him.

Glasses clinked lightly against the other as I plucked them from the shelf. Once again I moved deliberately, my skin barely brushing against his as I placed the glasses on the table before us. "We drink," I answered mischievously.

His gaze flicked to the glasses and back to me, eyes still simmering with hunger. "Very well."

Never before had I heard two words so heavily laden with heated lust. I was almost undone. My only saving grace was the cool metal of the bottle opener in my palm, the irritation of the broken cork reconnecting me to my senses. I would not be bested by this man, much less a bottle of wine.

I went to work digging the damnable cork out of the bottle's neck, annoyed with myself for such a blunder. I only hoped Guy found my show of ineptitude endearing, but as I turned to find his eyes once more upon me, I knew the bottle of wine was the furthest thing from his mind.

I poured two glasses and set his beside the stove, wary of the hot cookware. The pans hissed and popped, filling the room with a tantalizing aroma. Guy moved with the practiced ease of a man well acquainted with the culinary arts. I took a seat at the table and watched him work, his movements precise and charmingly animated. He seemed to enjoy this particular pastime and I found it an attractive quality. I could respect those who took pride in their passions.

Steam billowed from the saucepan as he emptied the excess water into the sink, the scent of herbs suffusing the air. He immediately moved to transfer a pan to a cool burner, the dish sizzling loudly as he uncovered it. I watched, mesmerized by the grace of his movements, the ease with which he appeared to juggle a dozen tasks at once. I sipped on my wine and indulged in the view.

Within moments he had readied our plates and set them on the table, an expression of genuine amusement accentuating his features. My eyes traced a line down his cleanly shaven jaw, smooth skin awash with the scent of steam and musk. His collar lay open, hinting at a muscled chest beneath, and I bit my lip to stem the tide of desire building within.

His smile broadened as he took his seat opposite me, aware that my hunger was not entirely related to the delicious meal before me. I smiled shyly, remembering my purpose and struggled to maintain some semblance of control.

My attention suitably redirected, I almost cried with joy at the sight before me. Not only had Guy done the impossible by importing Earthborn chicken, but he had somehow managed to obtain fresh produce with which to make the divine sauce decorating my plate. I couldn't help but grin like an idiot in surprised delight.

"I assume you're a fan of chicken parmesan?"

He needn't ask as my answer was writ plain on my face. While fare on Omega varied from barely palatable to deliciously decadent, no restaurant I knew of could afford to import meat born and raised on Earth. It was a novelty that only the exceedingly wealthy could afford or the exceedingly cunning could purloin. Of course in my experience, the two were often one and the same.

I had to stop myself from diving into the meal, warning bells blaring in my skull. Instinct instructed me to wait, unsure about the safety of my food. It would be a crime to despoil such a feast, but I had no intention of taking the chance that Guy was unaware of my true identity and purpose. I sipped my wine and I twirled the noodles on my fork, waiting for him to take the first bite.

"Hot," I stated almost sheepishly. He seemed satisfied with my answer, his curious glance turning once more to desire. I admit I enjoyed the heat in his grey eyes.

I watched as Guy enjoyed his meal before I too took part in his treat. Flavor seared my tongue; rich, and full, and heady. I savored my first bite, relished the simplicity of such modest activity with almost childlike glee. It had seemed forever since last I felt wonder and I was loathe to end the sensation. Taste, warm with a hint of sweetness, tantalized my tongue and I dabbed at the bit of juice that managed to trickle from my lips. A soft moan of pleasure escaped me and I glanced up at Guy in the hope that he hadn't heard.

From the look upon his face, it mattered not at all to him that I might have embarrassed myself, so intent on my meal was I. Desire seemed to spill from him in waves, the ebb and flow of the tension between us growing ever more potent. For the briefest of moments I believed he would overturn the table and take me that very moment, but alas, he did not.

I knew he felt as I did as I recognized the obvious lust in his gaze, and I simultaneously welcomed and cursed his restraint. Clipped attempts at conversation dominated the air between us, doing nothing to stem the tide of longing. In the absence of action we instead substituted our craving with food, and while delicious and filling, my hunger remained unsatisfied.

"So how did you end up bartending on Omega of all places?" His voice quavered slightly, hunger lingering in his eyes.

"Well," I drawled, twirling the last of the noodles around my fork. "It was purely by misfortune."

Aria and I had worked out the details early on. She provided me with a basic cover story and I had modified it for a more comfortable fit. It was a formula we had used many times before, but recent events being as they were, a few more alterations than usual were needed. Offworld events occasionally had a longer reach than intended.

A single dark eyebrow rose ever so slightly, a hint of a teasing grin crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Do tell."

I sipped on my wine, now warmed to room temperature from my unhurried pace. "I had only been here about a month before we met – the victim of circumstance as it were."

"Oh?"

I nodded, choosing my words carefully. "I had a contract on Illium as a consultant. Experience with trade contracts is in high demand and those individuals - like me - who are familiar with cutting through red tape, are useful to have on staff."

"You are a trade consultant?" He took a sip of his wine as he pushed his plate away, curious grin hidden behind his glass.

Once more I nodded. "I was – worked out of Sol System and became very familiar with the ins and outs of the bureaucracy. I learned very quickly who to deal with and how to deal with them." I smiled mischievously and was rewarded with another hungry glance.

"I take it 'free dinners' and 'company incentives' are still the norm?"

I swallowed my last sip of wine and watched with delight as Guy swiftly refilled my glass. I found the reversal of roles oddly humorous. "It was, although outright bribes are still frowned upon."

Guy nodded in thought, his eyes never leaving mine. "In business, subtlety is always key."

"Subtlety has its uses." I smiled and dropped my eyes shyly, playing up my false persona, but wondering if we were even still on topic.

A guttural sound filled the air as Guy cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "So how did you end up here?"

"My contract fell through." I shrugged and feigned frustrated resignation. "After the disaster at Dantius Towers, no other company on Illium would even think to hire me because of my connection with them. And because the Dantius Corporation had arranged payment for my transportation to Illium, I got dumped on Omega when the captain found out he wasn't going to get reimbursed for his expenses."

Guy inclined his head as he frowned slightly, contemplating the dwindling amount of wine in his glass. "No accounting for chivalry, then?"

"No." I attempted to match his frown with one of my own. "I took the job bartending to cover my expenses and make enough to get off this station."

He looked up in surprise at the last. "Surely you had enough credit to book a shuttle back to Sol?"

I shook my head, eyes still glued to my glass and pretended ire. "Human credit means nothing here. The money I had with me I spent when I arrived, securing lodging, food, work…" I let my voice trail off as if lost in thought and snuck a glance at the man sitting before me. He did not appear to suspect any untruth.

"I'm sure there's demand for someone of your skills on Omega."

I swallowed the harsh laugh that threatened to spill from my lips, covering my ill humor with wine. "I know of no legitimate business on this station that would benefit from my expertise. Nor do I wish to walk into certain death."

Again he raised his eyebrow and studied me curiously, the lines of his forehead crinkling adorably. "'Certain death?'"

"Omega's exports are controlled by criminal or mercenary elements and are considered highly illegal in the Sol System. No administrator in his right mind would be caught shipping anything associated with Omega, much less the Terminus." I shrugged again. "It wasn't just this station they avoided ties to, it was the entire system. At times, I felt as if I had to pull teeth in order to get a single item past customs – a legitimate item.

"No, my experience in Sol does me no good here. I prefer to stay alive and out of sight of the criminal element."

He laughed then, a rich, husky sound. "And so you work in a bar owned by the most notorious person in the Terminus?"

I dropped my eyes to the empty plate before me in my best imitation of chagrin. I nodded slowly as if contemplating his words. "It's a job that garners little attention."

He said nothing and when next I raised my eyes, Guy was moving across the floor to the cooler. Curious, I arched my neck awkwardly to observe him. He rifled through the small compartments, shuffling condiments and frozen foodstuffs this way and that. It was when the muscles in my neck started to ache that Guy finally stood, a frozen, unrecognizable container in his hand.

Vapors rolled off the small box, the frozen chill of the contents mixing with the heat of the kitchen. I watched as Guy pulled out two bowls and popped open the container, scooping out the contents. To this day I still marvel at the memory and the sheer pleasure that followed.

"Here," he smiled as he took my plate and replaced it with one of the bowls. He handed me a small bottle filled with a thick, brownish ooze and then returned to his seat opposite me. "What, you don't like real caramel on your ice cream?"

It took me a moment to register his words. I recognized the frozen dessert in front of me, and I had tasted caramel before, but neither experience had been what I would consider pleasant. Forcing a smile and drizzling the ooze on my ice cream, I complied. Once more I was rewarded with another of Guy's delicious smiles, and nervous energy rushed forth with renewed vigor.

I passed the caramel to Guy and waited once again for him to take the first bite. He seemed not to notice my hesitation for which I was grateful, but unwilling to risk my cover, I tried his dessert. Given that my last encounter with ice cream was on par with the torturous force-feeding of varren dung, I was reluctant try again. Synthesized attempts at human food by non-humans tended to be unhealthy. However, Guy had demonstrated fine taste and culinary talent, so I could only hope that his taste in dessert was equally delectable as before.

I was not disappointed.

Flavor again danced on my tongue followed by a flood of sweet decadence. Guy had warmed the caramel and the blend of soft heat and sharp cold was intoxicating. I would have felt a fool for so forgetting myself over food, but in that single moment, I cared not. Memories of our shared dessert surfaced in my mind, and I opened my eyes to find Guy watching me with satisfaction. I should have known that food could generate such pleasure and such desire, same as anything attractive, and this was a lesson I found myself intent on learning quite thoroughly.

"Here, you've got something…" Guy's eyes flickered with heat as he learned over the table, a single finger barely brushing the corner of my lips. He smiled and sank back into his seat, licking the stray bit of caramel from off his fingertip.

An unexpected shiver of delight sent a jolt of heat down my spine, pooling ever so exquisitely in my core. A warm flush crept up my face and I dropped my eyes once more to my plate. I heard the rasp of the chair legs against the metal flooring as Guy stood abruptly, his hands gently cupping my jaw, pulling me up to him. He pressed sweet lips to mine and in that instant, my world melted away.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Bioware owns the world, but the toys are mine.

A/N: This chapter is rated M to be safe due to some sexual bits. A big thanks to Kudara for inspiring an unplanned addition. Also, a big thanks to my beta, drakontion, and to Sesh for putting up with all my rough drafts. And lastly, thank you so much to all who've favorited, reviewed, or just followed along. Knowing that others find my twisted ramblings interesting enough to read is rather thrilling. And on to the story...

Chapter 19

The simplicity of his kiss was offset by the heat building between us, tension exploding with touch. His hands soon grew hot on my face and he trailed searing lines of desire down my back. I responded to his attentions in kind, torn between safety and lust, between security and desire. I could taste the want on his lips, the need on his breath as the press of his lips became ever more insistent. I complied with his demands, curious to see how far it would go, how long I could maintain any semblance of control.

He pulled me to him, pressing his body firmly against mine and backed me against the half-wall which separated the kitchen from the living quarters. My startled choke of surprise only served to heighten his arousal and he deepened his kiss, tasting of wine and sweets, remnants of caramel still upon his tongue. I became pliant and willing through no conscious thought of my own, the clamor of my warning bells dulled by the torrent of yearning.

A hand slid up my bare thigh, smooth and hot and wanted. Guy lifted me off the floor with a grunt of effort, deep and guttural, hinting at a deep reservoir of ardor within. He parted my legs with alacrity, pressing his body once more against my own, the heat of his passions building inside me. My balance was precarious on the slim ledge of the half-wall, and so wrapped my legs about his waist for stability. At least that was what I tried to tell myself.

In truth, I wanted him. I wanted to feel hot skin against my own, longed for the taste of willing flesh beneath my lips, the rough friction of his body beneath me. I missed the rhythm of a man, the hard press of his body inside me, driving me to impossible heights of pleasure and filling me nigh until bursting. I wanted once more that which I had so desperately missed.

The echo of memory surfaced in my mind and my wrists itched. I ignored the ghost of manacles on my ankles, focusing instead on the passionate heat Guy exuded. He was warm, and desirable, and willing; and despite my promise to maintain control, I wanted nothing more than to have him in that moment.

Damn the consequences.

I pulled him to me, the heat of my lust scorching in its intensity. Lips trailed down my neck and I arched my back in sweet ecstasy, welcoming his kisses as they brushed the low neckline of my dress. The muscles of his back bunched and tightened beneath my hands, his body working against mine, the pace of our desires growing frenzied.

With little thought my hands drifted down his chest to his belt, unbuckling the leather strap with minimal effort. He sighed into my mouth as I slowly pulled the belt from his waist, the memory of leather doing nothing to stem the tide of my passions.

I had only just dropped his belt to the floor when an insistent ringing sounded, the noise at first unrecognizable. Guy halted in his attentions and met my eyes in a moment of confusion, but then abruptly untangled his body from mine, and raced across the floor to the counter. I could barely make out a frown as he picked up a bit of tech, eyeballing it with irritation.

"I'm sorry, Nya." His frown remained plastered to his face even as he ushered me toward the door. "There's been an emergency with work. I have to take care of this."

Guy offered rushed words and hurried apologies and I never had a chance to voice disagreement. The door shut behind me and I was left out in the grimy hall, cold and empty, with yearning unfulfilled. As much as I hated to admit it, I ached with his loss, the absence of his body against my own. It had been many years since a man had caught my attention so thoroughly and I was loathe to see it end upon such a note.

Gathering my wits, I smoothed out my dress and collected myself. I could not walk the streets of Omega flustered as I was, but my options were limited. I made a bee line for my apartment and hoped I would run into no trouble along the way.

I cringed with memory as I walked, at my loss of control. I began to question my professionalism, my ability to maintain an objective outlook and unhindered conscience. For the first time I wondered just what exactly Guy had done to earn Aria's ire and therefore my attention. I shoved the thought aside. It did not matter. What mattered was that I had almost sold out my powerful employer for ice cream and the possibility of satisfying sport.

Hunger had drained from my body to be replaced with a blend of disgust and frustration. I cursed myself and trudged onward, willing my ineptitude to disperse into the void as so much stardust. So wrapped up in my own inner turmoil was I that I was not immediately aware of another man's approach. The Lout had caught me off guard and again I cursed myself and my distractibility.

"Rough night?"

I shot him my most venomous look, not caring if Nya would have done the same. "Not your business."

He grunted, falling into step beside me, but otherwise said nothing. He needn't speak. The smug look on his face spoke volumes.

We walked for a time as I drifted through the alleyways. My plan to head straight home had been thwarted by The Lout's untimely appearance, and I had no intention of providing him with the location of my abode. He said nothing as we continued on, allowing me silence in which to brood and tally the evening's mistakes.

"You look like a woman in need of a drink." His tone seemed an attempt to be cheerful, but his expression was closed. I had no desire to join him for company or intoxication and so curtly declined. "Are you sure? I'm buying."

I cocked an eyebrow and eyed him speculatively. "Why so generous all of a sudden?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I need a drinking buddy and I don't know anyone else here."

I shook my head in annoyance and denied him again. "I'm going home. You're capable of drinking alone. You seem to do it often enough."

Another grunt escaped his lips. "That I do."

An awkward silence followed and I shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, good-night," I blurted, starting off once more on my way down the alleys.

He stood for a moment before jogging up to join me, falling into a parallel stride. "Let me walk you home, then."

Warning bells flared in my head, loud and insistent. I hid my suspicion, painting a curious look upon my face instead. Was this brat aware of my identity? Did he know who and what I was? I made a quick mental appraisal of his attributes, potential motives, taking into account our location, exits, blind alleyways. I had very little cover when it came down to it and running in heels was as likely to harm me as any man intent on violence. I was cornered and instead of offering a charmingly bland excuse, an irritated bark of indignation escaped my lips.

"I think I can take care of myself. I don't need you." It seemed I was still flustered from the night's events after all.

The Lout cocked an eyebrow in surprise at my apparent hostility. "So your date didn't go as well as planned then, Nya?"

I increased my pace, irritation flaring in my veins at his insinuation. It mattered not if his comments were true, as his very presence seemed to ignite my aggravation, but the fact that he knew my date went poorly was insult enough. Why did he have the innate ability to annoy me so?

A guttural laugh sounded beside me and I turned to watch The Lout chuckle at my expense once again. "Something funny?" I spat.

He cocked his head and eyed me. "I don't know why you're so pissed off. That _Guy's_ an ass."

"Yes, and you're the epitome of class."

He grasped his chest and stumbled backward in feigned injury. "And she strikes true! My heart – it breaks!"

I studied him in a moment of exasperated disbelief and then abruptly continued on my way.

"What balm shall I use to heal my wounds, dear lady?" He called after me.

I did not care to play his game anymore and so continued forward, ignoring him and his incorrigible behavior. I desired no games this evening, and in the absence of another's heat, I opted for solitude. I was accustomed to aloneness, at keeping myself separate from others. It was necessary for me to complete my duties. Although intimacy had its uses, only once had I taken a lover outside a job for more than purely pleasure.

I remember the first time after Arch that desire encompassed me, trapped me in a web of yearning and hunger so indulgent that I nearly went mad with longing. To this day I still blame Aria as she introduced us, her two new "talented" employees.

Uta was a dancer, lithe and exotic, who oozed charm and sensuality. Her skin was soft, perfect, and I ached to run my fingers along the curves of her body. From the moment we met we were inseparable, and it was not long after that our friendship moved to the bedroom. To this day I still think of the sweet scent of her breath, the softness of her lips and it is difficult not to measure every lover thereafter by her lead. It would be unfair as none could compare.

Her cerulean skin glowed in candlelight and she would oft speak of the similarities between us: both lost and found on Omega, both worthy of something greater. Tangled in her limbs limbs I would nod and smile, unbelieving of her convictions but entranced by her voice. For nearly six months she had been the better part of my day, had taught me of asari culture and their bonding rituals. Never did I acknowledge her subtle hints, knowing the implications of a relationship, knowing that I had naught to give her.

Rounding a corner I shook the heavy thoughts from my mind, focusing on my surroundings and realizing I was only a block from my apartment. The Lout was nowhere to be seen, but I still felt the urge to howl in frustration at his mockery. Why did he keep pestering me and how did he know exactly where I would be at the oddest of hours? I knew he was more than he seemed and while he did not exude danger as some, I was wary of him.

I huffed in annoyance as I keyed in my security code, door panel glowing green with approved access. I completed my scan of the apartment and once satisfied everything was in order, unstrapped the knife from my thigh and plopped down in my favorite chair. The soft cushions hugged my body, drained and emptied of longing. Fatigue took hold as my mind wandered and when next I woke, the blaring alarm on my chrono signaled a new day.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

A/N: This chapter is rated M for sexual content.

Chapter 20

I cleared the sleep from my eyes and carefully worked the stiff muscles of my neck, knotted and sore from last night's rest. I knew better than to sleep in my chair, as comfortable as it was, as I had worked the stiffness from my neck many mornings before. It was a rest well deserved, but did little to ease the ache of inner tension, hunger and longing still pulled taut. Ignoring my discomfort I slammed my hand down on the blaring chrono and readied myself for the day.

The hot water of the shower was warm and welcoming and I basked in its heat until it became almost overwhelming. Careful not to bang my elbows in the tiny stall, I cleansed my body and rinsed the soapy suds from my skin, imagining the night's stressors draining away as well. If only it was as easy to clean oneself of emotion as it was filth.

It wasn't until I stepped out of the shower and toweled my hair dry that I noticed the blinking red light on my omni-tool, signaling a waiting message. Curious, I slipped it on my wrist and activated it. A simple apology appeared, signed by Guy with an invitation to return this very eve. A jolt of excitement shot through my system, straining my already taut nerves, and I immediately cursed myself for my budding anticipation.

I generated a quick reply, accepting his invitation, but informed him that it would be later – after my shift was over. I would not take off early just to accommodate him, not after last night. No, despite my continued need to sate my desire, I would not allow such easy access to my charms. Nya's persona was far more lady-like than I, and I still had a cover to maintain.

I dressed in comfortable clothes and slid my knife inside my boot, momentarily eyeing my collection of blades before locking the cabinet. Satisfied with the security of my locks and traps, I made one last check of my apartment before leaving, saving the readings in my 'tool. The door hissed open as I threw on my jacket, ready for another day at the bar. The chime sounded behind me as the locking mechanism activated, and certain of my continued security, I navigated the gritty corridors to my destination.

Dulled music and bright lights greeted me as I entered through the service door, stacks of supplies and foodstuffs piled high in the small space. I hung my jacket on a corner peg and reached into the clean laundry for a towel. Tossing it over my shoulder I entered the lounge, the sound of music intensifying as the flashing lights blinded me momentarily.

I took a moment to adjust my gaze, focusing my wits with the change of ambiance. Xel hurried from patron to patron, shooting me an expectant glare behind twitching mandibles. I nodded almost reluctantly and engaged the person nearest me, filling their order and sending them on their way as quickly as possible.

An hour flew by without much difficulty, time passing more swiftly when the rush of business remained consistent. I took a moment to scan the lounge as I refilled my water, irritation flooding my veins as I recognized a familiar face. The Lout had staked out his usual claim in the corner, shadowed and sulking with an empty glass in his hand. I briefly wondered how long he had been there and when his exasperating ass would pop up to the bar for a refill.

Much to my surprise he remained rooted to the spot, silent and unmoving in what appeared to be deep contemplation. I watched him for a time, curiosity getting the better of me in the absence of work. He wasn't unpleasant to look upon, so long as he kept his mouth shut, but I still wondered what it was about him that irked me so. Until recently, a handsome face had little effect on me save for the admiration of beauty.

Lights flickered again and I heard Xel bark something at me in an unflattering tone. I shot him an irritated glance but said nothing. I was in no mood for his power trips, but continued with my tasks nonetheless. I still had a job to do and time to kill until my shift was over. I had no desire to cause any additional complication that might strain my already tense nerves.

The usual crowds filtered into the lounge as my shift wore on, patrons of all races crossing my path and requesting my services. I worked in coordination with Xel, each of us brushing past the other in a hurried dance of service and speed. We had grown used to each other and our work habits, moving in time with the flow of the customers. Xel was capable and hard working. I didn't always like him, but I respected him.

It wasn't until the second rush was over that I once more scanned the crowds. The Lout was still at his table, his drink refilled. He did not look for me, nor did he appear to care for anything other than the table directly before him. He remained still, contemplating the unknown.

I shrugged off the mystery of his vapid thoughts and finished my duties. I was tired and worn, but eager anticipation stirred renewed vigor within. Tossing my now-soiled towel into the laundry bin I bid Xel a good night and made a hasty exit. I had an evening of imagined delights ahead of me.

I still remember the look upon his face when Guy opened the door. He stood before me, welcoming me into his home once again and taking my jacket as a gentleman should. There the politeness ended and he was gentle no more. He pressed his lips to mine in a frenzied imitation of last night's kiss, hands once more hot on my body as he explored all that I offered.

I responded to him as my body demanded, allowing him to plunder my mouth with his tongue. The sweet taste of his breath I had remembered was replaced with the sharpness of scotch. The warmth in his eyes still burned with yearning and interruption or no, I knew he would not be denied this eve.

His muscles flexed beneath the soft silkiness of his shirt and I pulled it from him impatiently, breaking our kiss only momentarily. He was back on me in an instant, mouth roaming over bare skin as hunger swelled between us. I had barely time to notice our convoluted path through the apartment before I fell back against the bed. He eyed me momentarily before resuming pursuit of his goal, the heat of his kisses near scorching.

I moved with him, sliding my pants awkwardly down my legs as he fumbled with his own. In the end, he gave up his struggle and flipped me on my belly, pulling me further down the bed toward his waiting loins. He took me then, rough and hurried. It was over before I knew it and I was left aching and hungry for more.

Guy rolled off me, his body loose and sweaty from his brief exertions. A mix of emptiness and embarrassment filled me and I pulled up my pants to cover my nakedness. We laid on the bed in silence and I contemplated the origins of my fascination with this man. What was it that had so attracted me to him?

I propped my head on my palm and turned to look at him. Guy smiled tiredly at me and traced the line of my jaw in a sweet caress. I watched as his lids sank closed and not long after, soft snores whispered through his lips. I wasn't surprised at his sudden lack of gusto, but I was certainly disappointed. Once again I was left with unfulfilled longing and a lingering hunger.

I was rather tired of my lack of satisfaction and an ember of ire sparked within me. I sat up, careful not to wake him, and felt for the switch on my wristband. My injection of the tranquilizer went unnoticed by Guy, already deep asleep. I was sure I needn't use the small bit of toxin, but I did not want to risk him waking up while I was deep in his files. His interruption would have impeded my progress and I hated interruptions.

With free reign I made a thorough search of his apartment. I found two safes, one poorly hidden behind one of his many artifacts, and the other ingeniously incorporated into a shelving unit. Neither contained any information of note, but I recorded the data nonetheless. Better to have too much information than not enough.

His personal terminal was set aside on the kitchen countertop, and I pushed aside the memories of last night's misadventure. While my desires had not been fully sated in the way that I had wished, at least last night I still had the benefit of wishful thinking rather than the sad knowledge of reality. However I realized, as I activated Guy's terminal, that disappointment could be quite the motivator.

I sync'd up my 'tool to the terminal, bypassing his access codes with minimal effort. I watched as the data scrolled down the display, scanning for familiar files, pausing the feed once I ran across the financial records. Cross-referencing his files with my data found no listings of the individual he purportedly worked for. As I suspected, the asari merchant on Illuim was but a lie. Nevertheless, I downloaded the files more sure than not that they contained valuable information.

I retraced my path, erasing the evidence of my presence in his systems and replacing his terminal as it was before. I scanned his apartment once more for good measure, hiding all traces of my visit. Upon deeper inspection I scanned the substructure and noticed a series of pipes running parallel along the far wall. A wicked idea filtered through my mind and I pulled the knife from my boot.

Accessing the control panel on the far wall, I pried the back plating from its hinges, eyeing the schematics from my omni-tool. A small puncture in the pipes would go unnoticed, and hidden as they were, the leak would be active for some time. However, Guy was not likely to wake anytime soon to escape the leak's effects, slumbering soundly as noxious fumes filled his abode. I smiled wryly in thought; _poor Guy_. His death would look like just another industrial accident, a random casualty of Omega's decrepit infrastructure.

My objective completed I stood in silence for a short span, putting his face to memory. Guy had treated me well for the most part, had been a gentleman, been considerate. However, he did not know me, nor I him. Despite our conversations, the time we had spent together over the last few weeks, we were relative strangers. As much as I wanted the fantasy of him to be real, it was not; and I still had obligations and responsibilities that were of a higher priority than indulgence.

I sighed, not with regret for his death, but for what could have been. If Guy had never come to Omega, never seen fit to test his mettle against the pirate queen, he may well still have survived. As it stood, though, he had acted incautiously, stupidly, and as I walked out the door of his apartment, I wondered what it was that I ever saw in him to begin with.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Bioware owns almost all.

Chapter 21

I awoke the next morning with a clear head and easy conscience. No thoughts of confusion clouded my mind, desire no longer pulled at me, and yearning had dissipated into the ether. I felt whole once again, no longer torn in two directions. I could put Nya aside and just be Jin for so long a time until Aria called upon me. Things were once again as they should be.

I walked the alleys of Omega on my way to work, ignoring the grit and grime, the shouts of the hawkers, and the acrid scents wafting off the stands of the food vendors. Nothing had changed from the everyday organized chaos that ran rampant through the alleyways. Vermin scurried in the shadows, racing for their lives as the vagrants hunted them. The familiarity of the scene, the smells, and the general bustle were comforting. Yes, things were as they should be.

The service door creaked softly as I entered the storage room and I hung my holster and jacket on their usual peg. Grabbing a clean cloth I headed to the bar, lights flashing in my eyes and loud bass thundering in my ears. Few patrons were present, small groupings dotting the lounge. As per usual, The Lout was sitting at the bar, amber drink in hand. I approached with causal ease, a sharp witticism on my lips lest he try my patience today.

He was hunched over the counter, eyes focused on the glass before him, the glowing iridescence throwing eerie shadows across his face. I was almost hesitant to approach upon seeing his state, but curiosity got the better of me. I tossed the towel onto my shoulder and readied the bottle of bourbon.

"You look like a man in need of a refill." Not my wittiest statement, but it would do.

Hooded eyes glanced up at me and he frowned. "They know it was you."

It took me a moment to understand his words above the din of the music, and I cocked an eyebrow in innocent confusion. "What was me?"

He leaned back in his chair and shot me the full force of his glare. "That _Guy's_ dead. They know you killed him."

I frowned and pushed down the confused panic that was threatening to arise and overwhelm me. Who was this man that he knew such things? "I don't know what you're talking about."

A humorless snort was his response.

"Guy's dead? When? How?"

He held my gaze, the heat of his stare burning into me and I met it with equal potency. "Deny all you want, but they'll be coming for you."

I feigned confusion at his words, a denial forming on the tip of my tongue, but he stood abruptly and tossed a handful of credit chits on the counter.

"I'd be on the move if I were you." And with that, he left.

I watched him exit, his back straight, but head heavy. He moved like a man ill at ease, accustomed to carrying a heavy burden. I frowned in thought, questioning his motives, his intelligence, and finally came to the conclusion that there may some truth to his words.

I activated my omni-tool and checked the security feed. No reports had been made and no alerts were active. I fidgeted irritably. Aria would have notified me of third party involvement, informed me if word had leaked. I had no doubt she already knew of my success, but the more I contemplated my predicament, the more uncomfortable I became. Aria had not contacted me for a debriefing as per usual.

I wrung the towel in my hands, attempting to ease my worry and collect my thoughts. I could continue to play the bartender until Aria contacted me. It was still early, yet. I need not make any assumptions based on such an unreliable source.

I bent down to lift a tray of glasses as a swift breeze brushed by my head and a bottle shattered suddenly behind me. I felt a sting on my cheek and the sharp trickle of blood upon my face. I was on the ground in an instant, instinct taking hold as the entire bar seemed to explode around me. Glass shattered above, drenching me in shards and expensive liquor. I remembered my set of pistols hanging safely in the service room and given the lack of cover in the lounge, the service exit was my only option.

Screams of patrons filled the air as the gunfire continued, glass sprinkling the floor as mass effect rounds pelted my previous location. I crawled along the gritty floor, my palms bleeding, my clothing slowly shredding against the glass. I ignored the pain, pushing past it to my goal. The service entrance was in sight.

A low whistle filled the air, breaking the staccato rhythm of gunfire, and I recognized the terrible sound of a missile launched. I broke cover and dove into the service area, the heat of the explosion hot on my face, singeing my hair and clothes. I stood swiftly, ignoring the aching protests of my body, and pulled my jacket from the peg, the blood from my palms streaking the fabric. The holster and my pistols were still secured within and I threw them on, wary of my surroundings.

Loaded and ready I peered carefully out the service entrance into the hall. It seemed empty and I needed to move quickly. I could not wait for safety and so dashed madly down the alley, the fires behind me spreading throughout the lounge. Alarms sounded and lights flashed, painting the alley an eerie shade of red. Aria's men would be moving into place to contain the chaos if they were not already. Given what The Lout had told me, I wasn't sure what to believe anymore. I could not wait for support. I was on my own.

I plastered my body against the wall as I came upon an intersection, unsure of my route. Blood pounded in my ears and my heart felt near bursting. Ignoring the panic threatening to rise once more, I focused on my training. I slowed my breathing and checked the readout on my pistols. Both were fully loaded as always, primed and ready to go. I activated my omni-tool, its presence oddly comforting, but before I could search out a route to the nearest landing pad, I recognized the soft echo of voices filtering down the alley.

Adrenaline surged within me and I fought to control my emotions. A quick survey of the alley resulted in a nearby access panel leading into the ventilation systems. Without a second thought I drew my blade from inside my boot and pulled the panel from its hinges. Ignoring the stale stench of vorcha, I climbed inside, quickly replacing the hatch and sabotaging the seams to lock it in place. Steeling my nerves I silently moved deeper within.

The voices drifted by, scurrying beneath the ventilation shafts. I dared not linger even though I needed to identify my attackers. Death was not an outcome I preferred and so I ignored my curiosity in favor of practicality. I'd learn eventually, but not today. Today I had a duty to survive. Vengeance is impossible when dead.

I scooted further down the shaft, avoiding the rotted pitfalls common in Omega's piping, occasionally catching unwary flesh on the jagged edges. Following the convoluted path my omni-tool displayed for me, I stayed out of sight of the majority of Omega's inhabitants. Once I caught the wary eye of a fetid vagrant hunting for his meal in the shafts, but no words were exchanged. He blinked once in surprise and immediately moved on. His concern was food, and there was none to be had with me in his hunting grounds.

I turned the last corner of the ventilation shaft, my destination in sight and blocked by an enormous breach in the paneling. I sighed irritably and flexed my hands, testing my strength. I would need to exit the shaft at some point, but I'd hoped to be closer to the landing pad than I was. As it stood, necessity and I were at an impasse. Adjusting the settings on my 'tool, I scanned the pad for life signs.

Readings indicated the presence of four individuals, each armed and humanoid. I allowed myself a slight sigh of relief at the absence of krogan. Had even one been present, I might have saved him the trouble and blown my brains out instead. As it stood, I still had a chance. Once more steadying my breathing, I concentrated on the motions of my forms, the familiar imagery of it centering my thoughts.

Composed, I moved toward the pitfall, careful to stay hidden within the shadows. Gazing down upon the scene I saw two cabs on the landing pad, a driver leaning against one, but by the tension in his pose, I recognized his relaxation for a lie. The three other individuals paced restlessly about the landing pad, the two batarians armed with SMGs while the third individual - a turian - carried what appeared to be a modified assault rifle. I swore silently and continued my visual scan.

A series of piping ran parallel along the floor then crossed over the pad as it turned to follow the walls of the alley below. Three brightly lit terminals lined the far wall, each connected to the main hub that powered this particular transit station. A wry smile spread across my face as the beginnings of a plan formed in my mind.

To my right, another terminal sat against the railing which lined the edge of the alley. Beyond was nothing but traffic, personal transports and cabs flitting to and fro amidst Omega's empty interior. At my back two alleys met, both blind until joined at the transport hub. I would find little cover there, but I dared not have the enemy at my back. I would need to be quick. I could not afford to take out the three individuals, and perhaps the cabbie, with reinforcements arriving behind me. Speed, timing, and precision would rule here today.

I observed my targets for as long as I dared, studying their movements, the grip on their weapons. They moved with practiced ease, wary and alert as if accustomed to hostility. I did not suspect military precision, mercs most likely, but none bore insignia of affiliation. It mattered not. They were trained and they expected me and adrenaline, like fire, pumped through my veins. I would make them earn their pay today.

Switching off my 'tool, I stealthily moved into position, wary of the press of my weight against the metal paneling. I braced my hands on either side of the gaping hole, ignoring the pain of my palms as the jagged edges bit deep. Activating my cloak, I slipped from the vent without a sound, landing only a few feet from the main hub. I tucked and rolled, coming up silent and within reach of the terminal. Silently I hacked into the system, counting the moments until my cloak dissipated.

The panel flashed green with approved access and I mentally swore. However, luck was on my side as none of my would-be assailants noticed. I readied my pistols and sucked in a deep breath. In the moments before my cloak dropped I took aim, the turian in my sights.

His head exploded as my cloak dissipated, the two batarians and cabbie frozen only momentarily in surprise. Shouts sounded, ragged and panicked as I ducked into cover, the report of dual SMGs ringing overhead. Blindly I punched the button on the terminal, and the whine of engines blared through the chaos as the rear cab powered up. I used the distraction and opened fire again, taking out the batarian on my right. The other dove behind the forward cab, taking cover with the driver.

We exchanged fire, tight controlled bursts that echoed down the alleys and grew deafening in intensity. I was running out of time and ammo and ignored the frustration kneading my mind. I had to escape and this batarian was in my way.

Recognizing my lack of options I activated my cloak once more, diving out of cover and crossing toward the landing pad. The batarian continued to fire at my previous location even as I bounded over the cab and behind him. I slipped my knife from my boot and drove it into his brain. My cloak dropped as his body fell lifeless, twitching; my pistol pointed at the cowering cabbie before me. I turned to face him, fierce determination written in my features.

His hands shook with fear as he tentatively held out the transport's keys. I eyed him for the span of a heartbeat, then snatched the keys from his hands. Remembering my readings, I gestured to his jacket with my pistol.

"Your weapon. Three fingers. Now."

He looked at me with a mix of confusion and surprise before realizing what I had said. Slowly, he complied and pulled a small sidearm from his inner pocket, three fingers on the grip. I jerked it from his grasp, liberated the heat sink, and tossed the weapon over the edge of the pad. He watched me with fear, hands still trembling.

"The tracer on the cab? Where is it?"

The driver seemed paralyzed with fear, but luckily was not too far gone to formulate a response. "The control panel, green two – just next to the emergency fuel source."

I nodded curtly, my eyes still upon him. "Any others?"

He shook his head. "N-no."

Myriad thoughts raced through my mind, but I could not have this man following me or alerting my attackers. I had but one option. "I'm sorry."

He held up his hands in surrender, vacant fear contorting his features, and I raised my pistol toward him. The blow knocked him cold, but he would suffer no permanent damage other than a fierce headache upon awakening. What happened to him then was no concern of mine.

I popped the top of the liberated heat sink and opened the forward cab's fuel tank, sliding it inside. The resulting explosion when powered up wouldn't be enormous, but it would be enough to take care of anyone attempting to follow me. I needed as much time as I could get.

The second cab started up with little effort and I promptly disabled the tracer. Checking my omni-tool I set my course, ignoring the desire to relax my guard upon liftoff. This was only just the beginning.


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

Chapter 22

The whine of the engines grated on my already frayed nerves as I navigated Omega's byways with a white-knuckled grip. Sweat beaded on my brow, the heat of the industrial complex permeating the stale air of the cab. My adrenaline continued to pump wildly even as I worked to steady my nerves and center my thoughts. I needed to find safety, a haven from the chaos that had suddenly annihilated my world, although a specific destination escaped me. Ignoring the programmed navigation system in favor of manual control, I hoped to set down at a random landing pad and evade any pursuers.

I aborted the thought as the cab lurched wildly, the impact of another craft jarring me and rattling teeth. I corrected course and pulled hard on the brakes, switching off the collision alarms, and straining against force as I shot toward the upper levels. I could hear the whine of the cab's engines struggling against my recklessness and spotted the other craft moving to position on my tail. Cursing foully, I adjusted course again and crossed into oncoming traffic. I was going to make this bastard work for his earnings.

Transports shot by me, the echoes of blaring horns and alarms evaporating into the air as they passed by in a blur. I weaved in and out of the lanes, always with an eye on my tail, grip tight, and heart pounding. I rounded a bend, the remnants of a dilapidated industrial complex dead ahead, and punched the accelerator.

Metal squealed on metal as I careened through the wreckage, taking a corner too tight. The cab shuddered violently and the resulting vibrations snapped my wrist even as I jerked it away from the frame's interior. A string of curses spilled from my lips as I altered course, navigating the maze of debris within. I checked my readouts and saw that the other vehicle had followed me in and was gaining. My pathetic cab was not going to withstand such abuse much longer.

Checking the nav systems I spotted another lane of traffic running laterally along the complex wreckage just below my position. I steered impulsively to the left barely in time to dodge a wicked beam and dove straight for the traffic, the hull screeching against the remnants of rusted piping. I wrenched the controls, crazily veering to the right as the cab rolled sluggishly, and moved into position beneath the stream of transports. I punched the accelerator once more, desperately hoping to avoid a collision.

My battered cab shot through the line of traffic without incident and I adjusted course again, veering right and climbing upward. On my tail I heard alarms blaring, the squeal of calamity followed by the rumbling thunder of an explosion. My spirits soared momentarily, but as I glanced back, I saw my pursuer remained.

I swore only to be interrupted as my cab again lurched wildly, red lights flashing and bright chaos erupting on my control panel. I tried to shield myself from the sudden shower of sparks and ignored the searing pain as I gripped the controls. I caught a glimpse of a second transport to my left, its hull badly damaged from the impact. Alarm flared anew as I recognized the change in course as it maneuvered into position to ram me once again.

The impact knocked out my nav systems and I fought to maintain altitude. The engines screamed in protest even as I saw the first transport creep up on my tail. I would not survive another impact. Smoke clouded my vision as the sparks ignited on the ratted upholstery, and blindly I swerved right, desperately hoping for a bit of luck. My eyes burned, but still I furiously scanned for a landing zone. At this point anything flat would do.

I was able to make out a small transport hub just within my sights, but the landing pad appeared full. I cared not. I needed to escape this flying death trap before it was too late. Locking in the coordinates I made for the hub, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

I was thrown violently against my restraints as I touched down, the screech of grinding metal echoing across the platform as my cab careened across the pad, crashing against a parked transport. The staccato rhythm of gunfire exploded around me and I sank further into cover, pulling my pistols from their holsters. I popped off a few shots, but to no avail. Smoke billowed from out broken windows, obscuring my view. I turned and fired a few rounds through the passenger-side window, kicking it out with booted feet, eager to escape the smoke and fire filling the cabin.

Broken glass scraped against my skin, but I was too far gone to care. Adrenaline boiled in my veins and my thoughts were only for survival. Pulling myself out of the burning cab, I rolled over the broken hull of a transport, using the smoke to mask my escape. The _pings_ and _pops_ of enemy fire drew near, and I ignored the sharp pain that grazed my arm. Crouching behind the wreckage, I took stock of my ammo, noting with irritation that I had only a single clip left. Anger flared as I attempted to activate my cloak, and I swallowed a scream of frustration as it failed to trigger. I was almost out of options.

Blindly I returned fire in short bursts, pinned between the transport wreckage and the platform's edge. I could make out no escape other than to leap off the landing pad, but I doubted that course of action would end well for me. Slamming in my last clip I activated my omni-tool, scanning the platform for life signs to eliminate. Oh yes, I would make them earn their pay this day.

Through the smoke I could make out a single figure approaching, and waited for a clear shot before opening fire. He fell to a single round, but I was forced into cover as another attacker let loose with a steady barrage. Swearing foully, I awaited a break in the now-familiar rhythm, taking aim even as the budding fire blazed before me. Through the flames, I was able to make out a third figure, but ducked down as mass effect rounds flew overhead once more.

Fear lurched in my throat as I heard the whine of engines rise up from beneath, the hull of another transport slowly coming into view. Sweat dripped down my brow, sooty and singed from the fire; pressing my back against the ruined hull of the transport, I took aim at this new threat. Confusion bit deep as the passenger door opened, and a familiar face waved frantically at me. Without thought I jumped in, heat and gunfire raging behind me. The Lout punched the accelerator even as my door closed, tossing out a frag grenade along the way.

Explosions rocked the platform, shockwaves sending shudders through our small transport. I righted myself in the passenger seat, pistols still tight in my grasp, and pointed them directly at the man beside me.

"Who are you?" My voice was calm, steady. Deadly.

He shot me an irritated glance before returning his attention to traffic. "Now's really not the time for that. You should put those away."

I frowned ever so slightly but remained still, pistols at the ready. "I don't think so. Tell me who you are."

He shook his head, but eyes forward. "Let's at least get somewhere safe before we get into this."

Indignation flooded my system, but I pushed it away. Only an idiot would save me from such a disaster just to kill me later. Either way I was trapped, and killing him now served no purpose. I would play his game. I would get his intel. And then I would get out.

After my mad dash through Omega, the silence of the cabin was deafening. The tension remained thick between us, and even though I had lowered my pistols, I did not holster them. Adrenaline still tore through my body and the familiar feel of the grips was painful, albeit comforting. I kept a wary eye on my would-be rescuer, countless conspiracy theories spinning intricate webs of intrigue within my mind. I collected my thoughts and identified my most promising course of action.

I would need to contact Aria, update her as to my status, and find out what in Omega's pisshole was going on. She would likely have information on this man to my left and those who attacked me. More than likely she'd be infuriated at the destruction of her bar and require answers. However, of those I had few. This Lout was the key. I needed to know what he knew.

The slight vibrations of the transport softened as we descended toward another transit hub, the landing pad empty. Traffic dispersed above us, travelers continuing on their way without a second thought. The Lout unbuckled his harness and let it fall against his seat even as he moved the craft into position. We touched down without fail, the ease of our landing welcome in comparison to my most recent attempt.

The doors hissed open and I hopped out, pistols at the ready as I scanned our landing zone. The Lout stepped out briefly only to duck back into the cab. A brief glance told me he was setting the controls to automatic and I watched as the transport took off, en route to its home port. I could only hope he was smart enough to delete the location of our landing.

He shot me a cocky smirk. "I assume since nobody's shooting at you that this is safe enough?"

I lowered my pistols once more, holstering my left, and fixed him with an angry glare. "I'm sure that will be remedied soon enough."

"Let's hope not," The Lout snorted. "I've had more than enough of saving your ass for one day."

I narrowed my eyes at the last, anger flaring again. "No one asked you to."

I shifted my weight, tightening the grip on my pistol. My hand ached, but it was a welcome pain and familiar. Air came in short, shallow gasps, my lungs still burning from smoke and fire; my chest aching deliciously from the thrill of the hunt. My body was starting to cry out in protest as the adrenaline faded, but at present, I had not the time to acknowledge the hurt.

He grunted in response and gestured to the docking bay behind us. "Shall we?"

I followed him into the bay adjacent to an industrial complex, well used and active. A quick visual scan of the area revealed recent use and I suspected we had arrived during shift change as workers were scarce. I took a moment to make sure the area was secure before activating my omni-tool. The Lout was on me in a heartbeat, hand grasping my wrist and mangling my connection. The strength of his grip sent spasms of pain through my arm, my injury no longer numbed by adrenaline. I struggled to maintain my balance even after he released me, cradling my throbbing wrist in an attempt to ignore the agony within.

"What–"

"Are you trying to get us killed?" He hissed.

"I need to report to Aria. She would know who's behind this."

"Of course she knows. She's the one who ordered the hit."

Icy shivers ran down my spine even as denial formed on my lips. While I recognized I was expendable, as was anyone in her employ, I also knew I was an expensive asset. Aria was a businesswoman. She wouldn't throw away a costly investment without reason.

"No."

The Lout began pacing, moving across the floor as if he were a hunter stalking his prey. "What, you think you two are friends?"

"No."

"You think you mean that much to her?"

"No." I shook my head. I had always known my place.

"What, then?"

I met his eyes, irate fire blazing in mine and blanketing the pain of my injuries. "You tell me."

"She has eyes – watches you, her people – she keeps tabs on all her underlings."

I nodded, my fierce gaze still holding his. "I know."

He frowned in frustrated confusion, green eyes momentarily flashing with anger. "No you don't. Guy was a setup. He was used to lure you out into the open."

I maintained a neutral façade, but inside my mind worked furiously to process all that he had said. "That makes no sense. Why would anyone suspect a lowly bartender of killing Guy?"

He snorted in derision. "You don't get it, do you? You are known to Aria's enemies and have been for some time." I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up his hand to forestall me. "Maybe not by name, or by your face, but your reputation is certainly known."

I remained still as death, digesting his words and ignoring the vile sickness pooling in my belly. It could not be true. Aria and I had taken steps to ensure my anonymity, taking extreme measures at times, but I had never questioned the need. Even as I held his gaze I was unable to fathom what went wrong, and the feel of the unknown began to itch and fester like an old wound. My world was not as secure as I had believed, and the reality was overpowering.

"You didn't think you could succeed for so long without garnering some attention, did you? Aria's invisible _pet_."

"Why would she be after me?" I asked, unsure if I wanted to know the answer, unsure if I wanted to believe him.

The Lout paused in his pacing. "She's covering her ass. If she eliminates you, there won't be anyone to trace your targets back to her."

"And how are you involved?"

The pacing resumed and the Lout ran a hand through short-cropped hair. "We should get going." He jerked his head in the direction of the docking bay. "This way."

"No." I didn't move, unwilling to go further until I knew more. "Why are you involved?"

He muttered something unintelligible followed by what sounded like a turian curse. "It's nothing important, now will you –"

"Who do you work for?"

"Damn it, woman! You really _do_ want to get us both killed."

I said nothing, but met his gaze once more, eyes flashing in anger as my tentative hold on control threatened to fall away.

"I work for an independent contractor," he spat. "I was hired to take out that _Guy_, but you got to him first. Congratulations. Let's go."

I nodded and stood, jerking my arm out of his reaching grasp. He shot me an irritated glare, but said nothing more as I followed him into the docking bay. An enormous electromagnetic seal dominated the massive room, showering the multitude of crates in a deep blue glow. The Lout picked his way through the maze, grunting in approval when he happened upon an ordinary-looking container.

"In here."

"What?"

He shoved me toward a small opening in the side of the crate. I looked at him with reproach, but he ignored my ire and shoved me again. "Get in."

I tripped and stumbled into the small space, the feel of confinement closing in on me. I crouched down, a mess of emotions and bewilderment at my upset reality. I had gone from comfortable security to stowing on board a crate with a nameless Lout, the wrath of my employer hot on my heels. And just when I thought my day could grow no worse, he sealed the hatch and locked us inside. In the dark. Together.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

Chapter 23

Shades of darkness filtered through my vision like shadows flickering upon a wall. I could barely make out the Lout's presence before me, his bulk situated at the opposite end of the crate, and I had no desire to use the light of my omni-tool. Our makeshift transport swung haphazardly as it was loaded onto a freighter bound for parts unknown. I cursed my ill luck and wondered how we would survive the hours spent trapped together in a space all too small for both me and my hostility.

I had seethed with anger when first our crate budged, unaware that it was scheduled for loading and transport. The Lout said little as I berated him, vile epithets spilling from my mouth that would have impressed many a krogan. He remained opposite me, slouched against the crate's wall, ignoring my flood of anger and frustration. I stewed with indignation, furious that he had trapped me so easily, and shifted awkwardly in the cramped space.

He seemed to enjoy my discomfort, my aches and pains providing him with no end of amusement. For my part I chose to ignore him as best I was able once calm, but when our legs intertwined as we attempted to stretch in the small space my anger flared again and I spat curses at him in frustration. He chuckled and stifled a yawn, only serving to enflame my ire, and soon I was as furious as a rutting vorcha interrupted during the deed.

With effort, I pushed my thoughts of intricate torture aside and pondered my situation. That Aria would exploit her resources for profit I had no doubt, but I had never considered myself so easily expendable. However, the knowledge and the reality were far different, and still I questioned the logic behind the Lout's words. He was an unknown entity and conveniently thrown in my path at a most opportune time. It was highly probable that he was the one to set me up instead of Aria, providing me with false intelligence on Aria's motives so I would voluntarily betray her secrets.

I seethed with frustration at my lack of options. I had always trusted Aria as she had never led me astray. I hated the fact that I was questioning my loyalty to her based on the word of a man I barely knew. I made up my mind to contact her as soon as I was able and without the Lout's knowledge.

He stirred slightly as the crate shifted, soft snores whispering through the quiet, and like a petulant child I kicked him in the hope it would silence such an irksome noise. He shot up with a growl, knocking his head on the lid of the crate, and swore foully.

"Quad-balls, woman! Watch where you jam that thing."

"You were snoring." I imagine he glared at me in the silence that followed, but I cared not, continuing on as if nothing had happened. "Who are you?"

He groaned with annoyance and I heard him shift, leaning back against the wall. "Not this again. Why do you even care?"

"Well, I thought since you decided to drag me on this pleasure cruise, proper introductions were called for." Sarcasm dripped from my lips and I made no effort to hide my displeasure.

"Yes, well, had I known the company would be so cordial, I'd have left you back at the dock."

I kicked him again. "Who are you?"

He swatted my leg aside, jamming it against his own and knocking his knee against the wall. He growled again in irritation. "Vale. And you're Jin. There - now we have our introductions, now let me sleep."

My suspicions surfaced at his acknowledgment of my name, and my mind raced with unanswered questions. "How did you know?"

He sighed again, his irritation plain. "Like I said, your reputation was known. We've had eyes on you for quite some time."

"So why didn't you act earlier?"

"We weren't sure, that's why Guy was sent in." He snorted with dark humor. "You know that wasn't even his real name, right?"

"I knew. What of it?"

Another chuckle sounded throughout the small crate, hollow and empty against the metal walls. "You do realize what he was, don't you? Or were you too busy fawning all over each other to realize?"

I remained silent, seething. I had known Guy was not his true name, but the knowledge that this Lout – this Vale – knew more about it than I grated on my nerves. I held my tongue, awaiting his response and unwilling to be party to his juvenile banter.

"No snappy comeback? No witty retort?" He shifted against the wall as if trying to see me through the dark.

"No." I stated simply. "Who was he?"

Vale cleared his throat, the harsh noise seeming to echo off the walls. "His name was Arnold Geiger. He used to front as an antiques dealer but was a suspected associate of the Shadow Broker. He's wanted in several systems for a number of charges ranging from petty theft and tomb robbing to kidnapping and murder – racked up a pretty hefty bounty too. Seems he'd been double-dealing Aria and so she sent you after him at her earliest opportunity." He paused and shifted again, and I had the oddest feeling he was looking straight at me. "By the way, did you find anything interesting in his files?"

I shrugged even though the movement was pointless in the dark and sent sharp pains up my arm. I sucked in an involuntary breath, hoping my injuries had gone unnoticed. "No. I found nothing."

"Mmm." He mumbled, but I knew he didn't believe me, not with such a poor performance as that.

"And your connection to Guy – Arnold? It sounds as if you two worked for the same employer."

"We did." He shifted again in the dark, and I pictured him leaning his head against the wall once more. "Things change."

"Mmm." I parroted his earlier mumble with one of my own. "So you were sent to bring him in for his crimes? I imagined you as more than just a common bounty hunter. How disappointing."

"Oh? What else do you imagine when you think of me?"

"Stimulating conversation," I quipped.

"You wound me," he stated blandly. "I would have thought Arnold provided you with all the stimulation you required."

I bristled at the comment, thankful it was dark, and again pondered devious methods of torture, the cold steel of my knife still secured within my boot. Breathing deeply, I pushed away thoughts of violence, struggling to maintain control over my anger. He was talking, and it was necessary he keep doing so. I required his information, even if it was false. I had learned long ago that every lie hides a kernel of truth.

"So what do you want with me?"

"I wondered when you were going to ask me that."

My skin itched with irritation. "Well?"

"I was encouraged to take you out as well, but payment was never negotiated and so no contract was ever binding. Besides," again I felt his eyes upon me. "You're worth more to me alive than dead."

I snorted with indignation. "Oh really."

"Oh yes." I could have sworn he was grinning wickedly through the darkness. "I know a lot of people who'd pay good money for a leg up on Aria. With my contacts and your knowledge of our beloved pirate queen, we could make a killing."

"If you say so." The irony of his words was not lost on me. Pursuing such a path to profit only led to death, and oftentimes I had been the one to deal it. Of all the information bought and sold on Omega, only Aria came out ahead. I had never understood the vast web of intrigue she wove, never knew the identities of her spies; I had never wanted to, until now.

"You still don't believe me?"

I wrenched my thoughts back to the present, recognizing the annoyed accusation in his tone. I remained silent, choosing instead to stretch out my leg and ease the cramp that was threatening to evict the remainder of my sanity. Vale grunted in annoyance and cursed again. We shifted positions, each awkwardly trying to maneuver around the other in the cramped space, finally settling into an arrangement as equally uncomfortable as before. I tried not to think on the picture we would make: my legs braced against the wall above his head while his long legs stretched out on either side of me. Instead I focused on the pain shooting up my arm, the scent of blood and smoke and fire on my clothes, and the absence of surety.

I no longer trusted anything I once held to be true. I recognized my need to contact Aria if only to hear her voice, untangle the truth from the lies, but it would be a near impossible task. Aria was a master manipulator and the realization that her manipulations had been practiced upon me was disheartening, if not unsurprising. I should have known better, should not have grown so comfortable. The possibility of her betrayal struck deep, and memory surfaced of Arch's boot in my face. I embraced the betrayal - the hurt - as it suited my mood.

Lesson learned.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

A/N: A big thanks to everyone following along and reviewing. Your attention/interest is very much appreciated.

Chapter 24

_I do not sleep to dream…_

My head jerked up in sudden surprise, and restless and weary though I was, I fought fatigue with every pained fiber of my being. I shifted my weight, my movements in the silence of the container near deafening. Vale grunted irritably across from me, removing my legs from off his shoulder.

"You haven't slept yet?" His voice was harsh against my ears and rang oddly against the metal paneling.

"No."

"What," he chuckled tiredly. "You think I'm going to knife you in your sleep?"

There was no trust between Vale and I. We were thrown together by circumstance, a wild whim of his, and worry clawed at my skull. I had grown comfortable with others before. It would not happen again.

I chose not to respond, content to stew in my concoction of delirium and anger. I kept tired eyes on him, questioning his motives, debating the truth of his statements. I doubted he had been fully honest with me, for what reason had I given him? But he had saved my life, and that fact, more than any other, confounded me.

My vision had grown accustomed to the darkness and I was able to make out the shape of his body, the awkward position in which he now slept. I was amazed that anyone could be comfortable, let alone asleep in such a pose. He grunted again, and I tried to move out of his way as he shifted once more.

"You're paranoid, you know that?" I shot him an evil scowl at his words, but the effect was lost amidst the lightlessness. "Just get some sleep. The trip will go faster, and we might not run out of food stores."

I hadn't even considered hunger and my stomach took that moment to rumble loudly.

"Here," I heard the rustle of fabric, but was unable to make out his movements. "Come over here."

"What? Why?"

"I'd like to sleep without your foot in my ear." He shifted again and I heard him move to one side of the crate.

"No."

"Are you sure? I don't bite. Usually."

"I'm fine."

An irritated sigh whispered through the crate and he shifted into his original position. "Have it your way, then."

I cursed my luck yet again, fatigue weighing down my lids as I fought to remain awake. My mind drifted, replaying the day's events, picking apart the details, reviewing, analyzing, and then replaying again. I broke down each action - each word - from the morning's shower to my hideaway in the crate, and still I could find no faults, no lapses in my judgment. I was at a loss. Where did I go wrong?

"So what _is_ between you and Aria, anyway?"

The question was unexpected to say the least, and surprise filtered through my system, unsure of what exactly he was asking or how to answer. "She's my employer," I stated flatly.

"Sure," he quipped. "I know who she is, what she looks like. That kind of woman…" His voice trailed off only to be replaced by a low whistle of wonder. "That kind of woman could bend anyone to her will."

My skin itched with heat and irritation and I huffed in response. "She's brilliant, yes, but there's nothing between us."

"Mmm," he mumbled, but showed little sign of belief. "If you say so."

"I do."

"Just how much do you think she trusted you?" I heard the rustle of fabric against the walls and shot him another irate scowl.

"Enough for me to do my job."

"Nothing more?"

"No," I stated simply. "Trust was never an issue between us."

"Ah," he leaned forward in interest. "What was the issue, then?"

"Who's to say there was one?"

He laughed with the ease of a man who'd nothing to lose. "You wouldn't be so upset if it were otherwise."

I remained silent, fuming. What right had he to insinuate there was anything of substance between Aria and I? What made him think he knew anything about Aria? About me? I drew my legs up under my chin and contemplated the blanket of shadows before my eyes. He was little more than a fortune hunter with exquisite timing, and even though he saved my life, he appeared to have few redeeming qualities.

Vale had admitted easily enough that I was nothing more to him that a means to an end, a possible payday. I had no desire to betray Aria and I wasn't about to divulge intelligence to anyone until I had facts in hand. No, I would hold my tongue and mind my words in his presence no matter how absurd his queries. He posed no question I had not thought of already.

"I wouldn't be upset?" My voice was low, laced with venom.

I was barely able to make out a shrug through the darkness. "That's what I gathered, yes."

"I just survived a hit on my life. A gang of mercs shot me, had the audacity to launch a missile at me, destroyed a bar, a cab, and a terminal hub to get at me –" I shook my head in disbelieve, clearing the web of thoughts from my mind. "And you wonder why I'm upset."

"You're shot? Where?" He cursed and shifted in the darkness. I could feel the heat of his breath on my skin as he moved near. I remained perfectly still, eyes wide and thoughts racing. I said nothing at first, enduring his close proximity in silence, as if wishing away my presence would make it so.

"Where were you shot?" he asked again, his tone stern and insistent.

"My arm – it's only a graze. Nothing to worry about." He reached out in the darkness for my arm, but I wrenched it away angrily, knocking my elbow against the wall of the container. I hissed in pain. "It's nothing. Leave it alone."

"It won't stay 'nothing' for long."

"Well," I cleared my throat, the dryness of my mouth harsh and arid. "Once we disembark, I'm sure a bit of medigel won't hurt."

He snorted with disdain as he returned to his position at the opposite end of the crate, body sprawled awkwardly against the far wall. "Good luck with that, then."

"Unless you have a medpack handy, there's little point in treating it now."

I heard the rustle of fabric and flinched in surprise as a gelatinous packet hit me on the side of the head. I choked back a snarl of annoyance, and fumbled with the medpack. Blood had spilled down my arm, soaking my sleeve in its wake, the resulting damp stickiness uncomfortable and itchy. Discarding my jacket, still reeking of smoke and blood, I pulled my knife from my boot and cut the sleeve from off my shirt. The tear of fabric echoed throughout the small space, and even though I was expecting it, no snide comment passed Vale's lips. He remained blessedly silent.

The packet was cool against my hot skin, blood still seeping from the wound. I applied pressure and welcomed the familiar embrace of pain. The ache spread through my veins until the effect of the medication took hold, and then numbness reigned. I sat cross-legged and comfortable in the small space, Vale's steady breath oddly soothing.

He was a mystery to me. I had never before met a man who could be as quick to condemn as to save. It was a trait I was unaccustomed to, seeing little use for it myself. Emotion was a trait which interfered with my work and Aria would have been disappointed had I ever forgotten control. Her method had been brutal, but she had instructed me on that particular folly quite well.

My thoughts drifted back to Uta, her lithe body dancing beneath the blue glimmer of Afterlife, false flames showering her figure in brilliance. The memory of her soft skin crept into my mind, the scent of her fingertips as she pressed them to my lips, the look in her eyes when she awoke. I had traced every line of her body, every curve, but the memory had faded with time. She was another lesson learned, and I welcomed the cold emptiness pooling within.

Vale shifted against the wall, his slight movements drawing me from my melancholy. My nose twitched in irritation as the scent of liquor drifted across the small space. I coughed and attempted to bury my head in my ragged sleeves.

"Something wrong?" He asked, his voice tired and haggard.

I grunted, shifting against hard metal. "You reek of bourbon."

"You don't smell that great either, sister. Charred hair and smoke just don't do it for me."

I opened my mouth to spit a retort, catching my foulness on the air. I feigned indifference as I wadded up my jacket, the strong stench of smoke and blood clinging to the fabric. Ignoring his bark of laughter, I lay my head upon my ruined jacket and attempted to sleep. I would not allow him the knowledge that he was right.


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: Bioware owns almost all.

Chapter 25

When I was little, Mother read to me of a small princess trapped in a tower by an evil witch. Try as she might, she was unable to escape, until one day a handsome prince killed the witch and freed her. So distraught was the princess at such a vile act, she cursed the prince to a life of solitude in penitence for his crime. He scoffed at her curse, vowing to be free of it and disappeared into the enchanted forest never to be seen again.

I had not understood the meaning of the story when first Mother read it to me, and I still wonder at its meaning. As it stood, I could relate to the princess in the tower, trapped as she was. However, my prince stank of bourbon and was trapped with me. Oh how I longed to curse him and send him on his way, never to be seen again. Such sweet satisfaction his absence would bring.

The crinkle of a wrapper drew me from my musings and I flinched as a small packet hit me on the side of the head. Vale mumbled something unintelligible in the dark, but I ignored him, rubbing my jaw instead. Shifting positions, I snatched the meal bar from where it had fallen, hungry but unhappy with the bland snack. I longed for chocolate mousse and chicken parmesan, ignoring the flicker of nervous energy crackling up my spine.

By my omni-tool's chrono we had been in transport for nearly two days, all of which encased in darkness, the air thin in the cargo hold. We'd attempted to conserve our stores by sleeping the majority of the trip, but the occasional argument was inevitable. Vale complained quite often about the cramped quarters, his long legs awkwardly placed within the small confines. I fared little better, his discomfort suddenly mine, sprawling as he did inside the crate. I had once awoken to his foot on my head and made my displeasure known. Our quarrel was cut short as we tried to catch our breath in the thin air, settling instead for hostile glares and snide, clipped remarks.

The groan of the docking clamps was a sudden surprise against the silence that had reigned for the better part of our trip. I finished the last bit of my meal bar, tossing the wrapper aside, and pulled my legs up under me. I was far past ready to be out of this crate. Freedom could not come soon enough.

The bowels of the freighter shuddered as the clamps were secured in place. I attempted to remain patient while the cargo was offloaded, the metal reverberations of the crates still distant, but growing ever louder. We awaited our turn in the darkness, excited anticipation filling the air, thick with the stink of days past.

The crate groaned loudly as it was hoisted upward, walls shuddering against the grip of the crane. My balance failed, awkwardly positioned as I was, and I over-corrected, crashing into Vale. He grunted in irritated surprise, his comment cut short as we were thrown against the opposite wall, the crate swinging wildly in the air. Limbs tangled together and I fought for balance only to fall against him again. Already tired of the press of his body against mine, I braced myself against the wall and pushed, generating much needed space between us.

The crate stabilized, but my footing was still precarious, hunched over and uncomfortable. Vale fared little better, crouched in the corner opposite me. Green eyes flared in annoyance and I got the distinct impression that he was as ready to vacate the container as I was. The desire for fresh air had never been stronger, the thin atmosphere of the hold cold and stale.

Our crate shuddered again as it was set down and a thundering rumble resounded throughout the confined space. The crane's clamps rang clearly as they retracted and moved to unload another container. I angled toward the hatch, ready to be out in the open once more.

"Quick, before they unload another crate and box us in again." I ordered curtly. "I don't want a repeat of our trip here."

Vale grunted in response, turning to kick the hatch and loosen it from its hinges. "What? There was still enough room between us and the next crate to hang your –"

"Enough!" My voice was sharp and laced with venom. "I have no desire to discuss this. Let's just get out."

"Fine," he grunted again, moving awkwardly as he crawled through the hatch. I followed close on his heels, hiding my surprise as he extended his hand to assist me. I pushed it aside, preferring instead to rely on myself, and ignored his irritated huff.

"You try to be nice and help someone…" his voice trailed off as he considered our new locale.

Muggy heat enfolded me and I stood, stretched, welcoming the strain of muscles regardless of the temperature. "I don't need your help."

"Yes, because clearly you got here on your own."

I shot him a sharp look, but years of training took hold as I viewed my surroundings, quickly forgetting my ire for the time being. The freighter was docked not more than thirty yards away, the loading bay quickly filling with its contents. Massive dual cranes line either side of us, the grinding of their gears echoing throughout the hold and reverberating off the metal containers.

"And where exactly are we? Or did you not research our destination in your haste to escape?"

"Well," he tried to brush off his dirt encrusted pants. "I was in a bit of a hurry, but lucky for us, I chose a freighter with a pressurized hold."

His words sunk in and I took a moment to catch my breath. Had our luck been any worse, we'd easily have suffocated during the trip. It was not a fate I would wish on anyone, and I quickly pushed away the memory that threatened to surface, once more focusing on my immediate surrounds. Navigating the maze of crates I spied a terminal near the bay's entrance. I gestured to Vale and we took to cover behind a large shipping container.

"Wait," he held up his hand for emphasis as he scanned the perimeter. "It looks as if the shift is ending soon – the freighter's almost unloaded."

I frowned, confused. "So? We must be on the move before the next shift arrives."

He turned to look at me, an annoyed expression on his face. "Jin, look around you." He gestured broadly to the bay. "It's dusk and this loading dock doesn't have enough light for a night shift."

"That never stopped them on Omega," I retorted, feeling suddenly foolish.

"Well they don't have the complication of sunset, now do they."

I felt heat flush my face and was glad for the deepening dark.

Vale stretched alongside the shipping container, poking his head around the corner carefully. "It looks clear." He motioned for me to follow him.

"Wait." I ordered, studying the readings of my omni-tool. "There's two 'round the corner up ahead. Get back here."

He blinked once before wordlessly following my instruction and I silently filed away my small victory. The soft echo of voices passed us by without incident, booted footfalls disappearing into the distance. I remained unmoving, preferring to wait longer than was necessary in order to ensure my safety. Vale waited with me and I imagined he was brimming with impatience.

I checked my omni-tool once more before moving forward, nodding to Vale in the twilight. He followed behind me, his eyes at our back while I took the lead. We needn't worry as the workers did not linger past their shift's end, but given our previous exploits, caution was a necessity.

I sync'd up my 'tool and the terminal flared to life, the display fuzzy and distorted. It appeared to be an older model and I adjusted the settings for increased compatibility. The display flickered and winked out before blazing brightly to life amidst the dusk. Vale swore softly behind me at the sudden flash of light, but continued to scan our surroundings even as he grumbled.

Hacking into the system I briefly skimmed the freighter's manifest. It seemed Vale had chosen his transportation wisely as the freighter carried perishable goods, cargo that necessitated a pressurized hold and a breathable mixture of oxygen. I silently thanked our luck once again, and scrolled past the manifest, unlocking the flight plan. I recognized Omega's coordinates immediately, but paused to study the destination, unfamiliar with the nav buoy.

"What's it say?" Vale hissed.

I frowned at his interruption, but otherwise ignored him for the time being. Slogging through my memory I could recall nothing even remotely similar to the coordinates, and frustrated at my ignorance, plugged the course into my omni-tool. A series of trade routes appeared on my display, the multiple trajectories crisscrossing in an intricate tangle of traffic. I sighed irritably, running a hand down my face, and proceeded to tease apart the vectors.

Vale shifted restlessly behind me, eyes hooded by shadow as he continued to watch the perimeter. I punched in a series of coordinates, wading through the data until I finally found a match. A satisfied smile crept onto my face and for the first time in days, I felt an inkling of relief.

"Well? Did you find anything yet?"

I nodded, the poor lighting of the bay throwing gangly shadows upon the floor. "Indeed I did."

"Well?" He asked again, an edge to his tone.

"It seems we've landed on Erinle in the Hourglass Nebula of the Osun system. According to the net, it's a major spaceport for the Terminus." My smile widened. "You'll be able to take a transport anywhere you want from here."

"Hmph," he snorted. "You seem happy with that bit of information."

"And you don't."

"No," he turned to face me. "It's a salarian colony. And I don't think we'll blend in too well here what with the recent prison break."

My small bit of relief faded away into nothingness, weariness filling the void. "It's a spaceport. We'll blend in with the other travelers." I looked down at my torn clothing and wounded arm, wishing I could believe my own words. "Our first priority, though, is to find safety for the night."

I engaged the terminal's systems once again and searched spaceport records. "Here." I stated. "There's a place nearby. Let's move."

Once more Vale followed me wordlessly and I began to question his sudden compliance. He seemed to be just as lost as I, but his knowledge of the planet and its inhabitants gave me pause. As before, Vale was much more then he seemed, and in that moment I vowed to find out where, exactly, I fit into his hidden agenda.


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

Chapter 26

The room was expansive compared to our cramped quarters in the crate. A large window dominated the far wall cloaked by heavy floor-to-ceiling curtains. I sighed in relief upon seeing two beds, thankful I would not have to share, the memory of our trip fresh in my mind. Rarely had I so appreciated the small luxury of space. My tiny apartment seemed a mansion in comparison to that damnable crate.

I caught a putrid scent and wrinkled my nose in disgust. Ignoring Vale, I stepped into the washroom and locked the door, stripping the clothes from my body with zeal. An angry red gash lined my arm, but it would heal. Another scar upon my flesh bothered me little.

I let pain slip from my mind as I turned on the shower, basking in the hot water as I washed the dirt of days past from my body. Steam rose through the air, clouding the mirror and blanketing the washroom in a misty haze. I relaxed for a time, the heat soothing aching and cramped muscles. I was loathe to leave such deliciousness, but as the water slowly began to cool, I realized I'd remained too long.

I toweled off, the borrowed towels not as fluffy as I was accustomed to, and wrapped my nakedness in the damp cloth. I glared at my pile of dirty clothing on the floor, unwilling to wear it again, but had little choice. It was either enter the shared room in a towel, which Vale would no doubt comment on, or don grimy clothes. I opted for the former, willing to risk a snide remark for a few more moments of clean comfort.

To my surprise he said nothing, throwing a sidelong glance my way before entering the shower. I heard a bark of irritation, most likely at the chill of the water, but I cared little. I was clean, relaxed; my nerves no longer strung too taut for rational thought. Stretching out on the bed, draped in nothing but my damp towel, I took a moment to ponder my curious situation.

I still intended to contact Aria, as I'm sure she would be awaiting my report. I did not doubt she was furious at my absence, but whether she was behind the attempt on my life was debatable. Vale had not necessarily been dishonest, but he had been less than forthcoming with the truth. I hardly considered him a reliable source of intelligence, but perhaps there was some merit to his words. It wouldn't be the first time my reality had been overturned.

My stomach groaned with hunger and I sighed, reluctantly moving to throw on my disgusting clothes. I would need to eat and keep up my strength if I was to survive this disaster, and checking the meager pile of credits I carried, left the safety of our rented room to hunt for sustenance.

Darkness lay before me and I entered the evening in fascination. It hadn't been since my childhood that I'd experienced true night, and the feel of twilight on my skin once more was soothing. Strange insects chirped in shadowed corners while soft, fresh air tickled my nose, smelling of rain. I resisted the urge to relax, to enjoy the nostalgia that threatened to surface, instead focusing on my surroundings. Surely a spaceport would have a restaurant nearby?

Keeping to the shadows I scouted the area, always with the door to my room in sight. My pistols remained hidden under my shredded jacket and my knife snug in my boot. I ignored the scratch of dirt against my clean skin, adjusting direction as I saw a series of food vendors across the way. As luck would have it, one was open and I jogged across the walkway to order.

The salarian proprietor's eyes widened at my approach, as I am sure I looked affright, the stench of my clothes profound. I pulled my stash of credits from my pocket and ordered, and while he did as requested, never did the salarian's gaze leave me.

Ignoring the food vendor's stare I quickly left, food in hand, and meandered through the alleys on my way back to the room. Vale shot me an angry glance upon my return and opened his mouth to speak, but halted as I placed our supper on the room's only table. He frowned and studied me.

"You know you could've requested room service." He sifted through the contents, grease slowly seeping through the bag.

I removed my boots and the remnants of my jacket, stretching out on the bed once more. "I didn't want anyone to know which room we're in."

He snorted, pulling out a box filled with what looked to be noodles. "I'll say it again: paranoid."

"Safe." I replied, watching him through tired eyes. Vale opened his meal and obviously tested the contents. "And you call me paranoid."

He paused, waiting for the results, and turned to me. "I'm not an assassin who kills with poison."

I shrugged awkwardly, the motion difficult while lying down. "If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. I wouldn't waste my time by poisoning your food."

"Comforting."

I turned to the ceiling and breathed deeply. "Yes."

"You're not going to eat?" Vale asked as he shoveled noodles in his mouth.

I stretched once more and stood, pulled a mealbox from the bag, and returned to the bed. Inside was another order of noodles, heavy sauce dribbling down the container's sides. I took a bite, noting idly the slight difference in flavor from the same dish I would order on Omega. The noodles were a bit softer and the sauce richer, but overall the dish was the same according to my unsophisticated palette.

"So do you have any ideas on where to go from here?" I inquired between bites.

"I've got a few ideas – know a few people," he said enigmatically.

I cocked an eyebrow, but bit my tongue on a retort. "When is the next shuttle back to Omega?"

He paused, fork half-way to his mouth. "You really think you'll be welcome back there? Aria will shoot you on sight."

"Perhaps."

"You still don't believe me, do you." It was a statement, not a question, warning in his accusatory tone.

"It's not about that –"

"That's exactly what it's about."

I set my meal aside and met his eyes, anger burning within his gaze. "You've not given me any reason to trust you and frankly, our chances will be better if we separate."

"Yes, I warned you of impending death because I had nothing better to do at the moment."

I cocked an eyebrow, recalling the memory of our exchange at the bar. "You warned me, but if it wasn't for spectacular timing, your warning would have meant nothing. I would have survived without it."

"And what about the landing pad? Who was there to pick you up?"

I nodded, calm and focused even as Vale's ire steadily rose. "You did and I've already thanked you for your timely intervention." He opened his mouth to spit out more arguments, but I held up my hand to forestall him. "It isn't about trust, Vale. I don't trust anyone, that's why I'm still alive."

He snorted again. "A bit melodramatic, aren't you."

"Aren't you?" I narrowed my eyes as I considered him, resentment simmering beneath my skin. "I never asked for your interference and your involvement has complicated my situation. I need to resolve this."

Green eyes glared at me, and I remained still under Vale's upraising gaze. He turned back toward his meal after a time, and we resumed eating in uncomfortable silence. Tension filled the air, and while irritation seemed to be the status quo between us, I hardly believed the notion was comfortable. And so it was by surprise that Vale broke the silence, his voice soft, almost distant.

"I have a contact on Illium that might be of some use to us."

I moved to set my empty mealbox on the table and took the chair across from him. "When are you leaving?"

He met my eyes once more, anger still heavy in his gaze. "You're coming with me."

I frowned at him them, simmering resentment transforming to anger. I disliked being ordered around, save by Aria. She and I had known each other long enough, shared a mutual respect, and so I took her commands in stride always knowing I had the option to turn down a contract even though I never did. An order coming from Vale, a man I hardly knew, was insulting. I made my displeasure known.

"You don't tell me what to do," I hissed, the tension coiling around my body as my anger stirred.

He held my gaze, both of us vying for unspoken control, neither willing to look away first, but it was he who broke the silence yet again.

"I'm tired," he grumbled, setting aside his fork and moving to his bed. "I suggest you consider your options, Jin. You don't have many left."

I said nothing, preferring to remain silent rather than mewl and complain like a petulant child. I turned my head toward to window, heavy curtains blocking any view, and considered his words. From the corner of my eyes I could make out his movements, only partially aware that he was disrobing. I cared not as I had seen many a naked man before, but I shifted my gaze even further away to avoid any potential implications. I did not need Vale's imagination running wild if he saw my eyes on him.

He switched off the lights and a blanket of darkness filled the room. The uncomfortable silence was soon filled with his soft snores and I wondered at his ease of sleep. It seemed he was able to rest anywhere in any condition and once more I questioned the capabilities of such a man.

He knew I did not trust him, although I cared little what he thought, but it unnerved me to no end that he was correct. My options were few. I could return to Omega and attempt to resolve the mess I was in, or I could remain with Vale and gather more intelligence. Either way, we would need to leave this spaceport. Our appearance – our mere presence was highly suspicious.

Irritated at my ignorance, I scooped up my jacket from off the floor and pulled it on. Vale's constant snores drifted steadily on the air even as I opened the door and slipped back outside. It had cooled since last I was out and a heavy mist lingered overhead. Wrapping my arms about my midsection, I made my way through the shadows and alleys toward the food vendors. The stalls had long since closed, but I did not mind, my need for knowledge driving me forward until I found a local diner still open. I stepped inside, caring little for the questioning glances the late shift staff occasionally through my way.

Visually scanning the layout I noticed a small terminal in each booth, a smattering of salarian patrons dotting the diner. I seated myself, ordering only water from the server who approached, and activated the terminal's display. Satisfied with the security of the connection, I searched for information from Omega, scanning transport logs, ship manifests, even merc communications, but found nothing to sate my curiosity. If anyone was searching for me, I would find no evidence in public view.

Frustrated, I switched gears and did a local search of the area, finding little of interest other than the spaceport's launch schedule. I clicked on the link for further details. A listing of departures and arrivals scrolled down the display, all leaving for Omega on the morrow. I had half a mind to book passage, but a stirring in my gut gave me pause. Aside from the fact that I had no money and no clean clothing, were anyone on Omega searching for me, my intended arrival would not go unnoticed. No, I would need to return home unannounced, unremarked. I frowned in irritation as I realized such a goal would only likely be accomplished by stowing aboard another freighter, and I was in no hurry to relive such a horrid experience so soon after the first.

My mind drifted back to Aria as I sipped on my water. I had little doubt she knew exactly who Guy-Arnold was, but I couldn't help but wonder if she had known what would happen upon his death. Aria was privy to information that detailed Omega's inner workings. Nothing happened on that station without her knowledge, a fact that she reminded others of quite frequently. And so by that logic, either Aria had knowledge of the intended assassination attempt or her spy network was not as thorough as it should be.

My thoughts darkened as Vale's words filtered through memory, and I shuddered to think of the third logical option: Aria planned the hit.

The server approached me again, but I waved the salarian away, fatigue pulling at my eyes. I glanced down at my chrono and, realizing an hour had swiftly passed, took my leave of the diner. Once again I stayed to the shadows, retracing my path through the night. A cool breeze wafted through the air, hinting at rain even as light droplets fell from the sky. The corners of my mouth curled up into a surprised grin, the feel of rain upon my skin for the first time in over twenty years.

I marveled at the sensation, turning my face to sky for but a brief moment as wonder enveloped me. The shower lasted only minutes and slightly damp, I resumed my trek in the shadows, relishing the feel of rain once again. I slipped back into the hotel room, tired awe evaporating as I recognized the anger on Vale's face, his posture rigid on the bed.

"Again? You left _again_? Where were you?"

As before, I sat on the bed and pulled off my boots, tossing my jacket on a nearby chair. "I found a terminal at a local diner."

He said nothing, but his expression spoke volumes.

I shrugged nonchalantly and shed the rest of my filthy clothing, noting with satisfaction the shift in his gaze. "I checked the spaceport's launch schedule. There's nothing going to Illium for another two days." I crawled under the covers, hiding my nakedness, but baring my irritation. "Why do you care where I go anyway?"

"I don't want you getting recognized." He leaned back down in his bed, yanking his blankets up.

"Oh, I understand. You don't want anything to happen to your payday." My voice dripped with sarcasm and I could hide my indignation no longer. "You've already made it clear that my safety and my cooperation lead to your dream of wealth. I can see how jeopardizing that dream would cause you concern."

He flicked off the light once more and I heard the rustling of covers in the dark. "You know nothing."

I glared at the ceiling in the dark, frustrated with Vale, with his answers, with his constant ambiguity. Never before had I had experienced such difficulty in dealing with an individual. If I could not charm them or manipulate them, I could eliminate them. Vale, however, I could not charm, could not manipulate, and could not kill as of yet. And so I stewed into the early morn, fatigue finally taking hold even as the sky brightened in the distance.


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all. I just play with their toys.

Chapter 27

_Shopping_.

I was up to my elbows in a stranger's underclothes and he had called it shopping. Had I known following Vale's cocky swagger into the docking bay would result in such an absurd activity, I might have declined. As it stood, however, we needed supplies – clothing, credits, and new identities in order to survive. I cared little about the theft, knowing it was necessary. I was more upset about the sultry heat clinging to my face and the beads of sweat dripping down my brow as I rifled through the luggage. The feel of my dirt-stained clothes sticky against my skin was of little comfort and I caught his eyes upon me more than once.

I shot him a venomous glare before tossing a pile of clothing aside. Beneath last year's fashions I found a lockbox secured with a rather sophisticated locking mechanism. I pulled it from the luggage and set it on a nearby crate, studying the technology so new and different from what I'd seen before. Frowning, I contemplated the lockbox as if waiting for it to provide with me its secrets.

"You found something?" Vale snorted from behind me.

"I did." I had learned that when dealing with Vale, short and simple answers annoyed him far more than sarcasm and I enjoyed his irritation to no end. The sight of him flustered, green eyes flaring with anger, was a picture I had grown quite fond of.

"So you're just going to look at it, then." He threw up his hands in aggravated surrender and secretly I reveled in his growing discomfort.

"Yes."

"Fuck's sake, Jin. Move." He pushed me aside and stood before the lockbox, contemplating the mechanism. Pulling an unfamiliar bit of tech from out his pocket, I watched as he attached it to the box's port, the display coming alive with color.

I leaned in closer, not caring if the stench of my ruined clothing bothered him, or that he had genuinely piqued my curiosity. "What is that?"

A wry smile creased his face as he turned to face me, his nose only inches from my own. "I acquired a shunt bypass program on my last trip out – comes in handy now and again."

I traced the lines of the display as they worked to extract the access codes, the need to know driving me. "How does it work?"

Vale's smile held, but I noticed a flicker in his gaze. "Tsk, tsk Jin. Trade secrets."

Dropping my hand from the program I turned to meet his gaze, suddenly aware of the closeness of his body. I stepped back, wrapping my arms about my midsection, deciding it was best to watch the program work from afar. "Fine," I snapped.

He eyed me for a moment longer, then turned his attention back to the box as the locking mechanisms deactivated. The smooth, lacquered lid opened to reveal identicards and a hefty stash of credits. It appeared we had our supplies.

I would not have thought to accomplish our goal in one fell swoop, but after searching through the spaceport's luggage for nearly two hours, I was satisfied in the knowledge that we were finally done. I could return to the room, shower, and put on a pair of clean pants. Sometimes the simplest pleasures are the most comforting, and I turned toward Vale, hefting the bag of luggage.

"Ready?"

I watched him pocket the identicards before closing the lockbox and securing it under his arm. "Yes. Let's get back before someone sees us."

I cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing, very aware of the lack of foot traffic in the docks. I could only surmise it was due to the early morn, but having come from a place with no true night, the idea was oddly foreign to me. For the past ten years, I had slept, awoke, and ate by Aria's designs. It was strange to be on my own time, the chrono a function of day and night rather than work and play.

Shouldering my burden I followed Vale through the alleys and back to our room, discarding the bag of clothing on the floor. Once more I entered the washroom, peeling my ragged clothes from off my body, and turned on the shower. The steam lingered in the air as I let the hot water wash away my filth, and so I luxuriated for a time until I saw the damp wrinkles upon my hand. I had showered long enough and wrapped myself in a towel as I exited the washroom.

Vale was already dressed in our newly acquired attire and lounging on his bed, eyes barely open as I entered the room. I pulled the towel tighter about my body and searched the luggage, pulling out a fresh pair of pants and a loose tunic. I hurried back to the washroom to change, but recognized the barest hint of a smile on Vale's face. Damnable lout.

Hours passed between us, neither willing to speak and break the peace that silence brought, but the hour grew late and eventually I tired of staring at the vid screen. I pulled on my boots and made for the door, turning to meet Vale's questioning gaze.

"I'm going to double check the transport schedules for tomorrow." I stated. "And I'm hungry. You coming?"

He seemed to consider my question for a long moment, eyes darkening in thought. I shifted uncomfortably, but held his gaze. Strange how he could be so relaxed one moment and in the next, pulled so tight as if ready to snap. His occasional volatility unnerved me. I was unable to predict his reactions, understand his rationale, and as a creature of habit it grated on my nerves.

"Sure." He jumped up from the bed suddenly and deactivated the vid screen. "I'll go."

The short jaunt to the diner was uneventful, the occasional passer-by throwing us questioning glances, but otherwise we were left alone. The diner held few more customers than my last visit, but the salarian staff looked upon us with the same curious eyes as before. I took a seat in a booth and activated the terminal, the upholstery squeaking as Vale sat opposite me. I shot him an irritated scowl, but he merely shrugged and perused the menu.

I ordered water as before and to my surprise, so did Vale. Our salarian server returned quickly with our drinks and took our order, leaving posthaste for another table. I watched him maneuver through the sparse crowd, trying to place his face but unable to. Frowning, I returned my attention to the terminal, Vale already studying the launch schedule.

Green eyes lit up with interest as he pointed to a data set. "Here – it looks like a transport leaving for Illium tomorrow afternoon from the east pad."

I nodded, vaguely recalling that particular departure. We had "landed" on the east pad and I was hesitant to return there. "Why this particular contact on Illium? I thought you had a slew of contacts from which to choose."

His gaze met mine and Vale's expression closed over, the light in his eyes fading. "The majority of my contacts buy information. They don't shelter frightened little girls on the run."

I bristled at the insult, resentment burning away my mask of stoicism. "Then you'd best stop running."

"Touché." He leaned back in the booth, the cocky smile once more plastered across his face. "And here I thought we were getting along so well."

I held his gaze a moment longer, unsure of what to say, flustered by his flippancy. Frustrated, I turned my attention back to the display, focusing on the schedules, on surety. I understood consistency. I did not understand the man before me.

"They begin loading just after the noon hour," I reported blandly, eager to return to the familiarity of routine, of a plan.

"Well, it's a good thing we packed light."

We ate our meal in silence occasionally broken by the odd attempt at stilted conversation. I was in no mood for politeness, my answers short and curt and evasive. My eyes wandered anywhere but him, observing the goings-on of the customers, the patterns of the diner staff, the quickest route to both exits. I felt Vale watching me for a time, but still I ignored him, unwilling to acknowledge his attentions.

He remained quiet after a time and I assumed he had given up the effort required of conversation. I welcomed the quiet that followed, the familiar feeling it gave me of dining alone. Except that I wasn't. He continued to watch me, studying my movements, but it bothered me not at all. What should I care if he watched me eat?

The server came by and took our empty plates, and I checked the launch schedule once more before linking to Omega's net. Again I felt Vale's eyes upon me, but still I continued to ignore him, scouring the feeds for any mention of my name or of the shootout that occurred during my escape. Industrial logs reported fire damage due to faulty wiring, but I saw no additional reports. I bit my lip in frustration. The lack of news was unnerving.

My attention was drawn back to the present by the squeak of the upholstery as Vale stood. "Coming?" He held out his hand to assist me, but as before in the docks, I pushed it away.

"Yes."

He sighed irritably and exited the diner without me. I stood, confounded by yet another shift in his mood, and followed him out the door. He was already too far away for me to catch him up, and so I continued on at my own pace, the heat and humidity of the day dissipating in the evening air.

A sweet breeze caressed my face, and while Erinle might be a wonderful planet for salarians, I had found it to be rather sticky and uncomfortable. I missed the pull of artificial gravity, the cries of the hawkers, and even the stench of the alleys. I missed Omega.

The beauty of Erinle was in its atmosphere, the sweet scent of thermals rising from the surrounding waterways under the blanket of a pale lavender sky. It was in the dampness of mist, the peculiar taste of rain, the surety of night. It was everything Omega was not, but I could not shake the constant feeling of discomfort. This place was alien to me, as I was to it, and I could linger no longer than necessary.

It was with this unsettling realization that I returned to our rooms, deep in thought, lines creasing my brow. Vale barely glanced up at my arrival, quickly turning his attention back to the identicards on the table before him. I spared him an appraising glance of my own, curious as to his project.

"I'm altering the cards." He answered the question on my lips. "They're no use to us if the information doesn't match."

"You've had some experience with this." A statement, not a question.

"Yes."

I nodded, suspecting as much. Pulling my boots off I curled on the bed and studied my omni-tool. My cloaking device still failed to trigger, and given Vale's preoccupation with the cards, I found myself with welcome time to tinker.

The diagnostic would take little time, and I used it study the files I had downloaded from Guy-Arnold's terminal. It seemed he had bank accounts, as well as contacts, on many worlds. Multiple deposits had been recently made, but I did not recognize the payer. Curious, I dug deeper only to pause as the diagnostic concluded. It seemed the cloaking device had been damaged in the firefight. The optical refractor would need to be defragged and retooled. Sifting through the lines of code would likely take all night and I sighed, reluctantly setting aside the financial files. They could wait. My cloaking device could not.

The night passed uneventfully and I wiped the sleep from my eyes only to recognize Vale's body slumped uncomfortably over the table. He appeared fast asleep and was breathing deeply, his head pillowed on the identicards. I couldn't help the hint of a smile that curved my lips, his face relaxed and open, deep grooves on his cheek from the cards' edges. The image was strangely endearing, but I caught myself as green eyes cracked open, and his mouth moved wordlessly.

"You're snoring again," I barked harshly, hiding my surprise with irritation.

He grumbled unintelligibly as he sat upright, frowning as one of the identicards fell from his face. I turned, shifting on the bed to hide my mirth. A semblance of understanding, of companionship between us was the last thing I wanted. I need not complicate my goals further.

"Here," he tossed me one of the cards as he stood and stretched. "That should be sufficient to get us past security."

I studied the card as he entered the washroom, the splash of water echoing against the walls. The likeness was well done, similar enough in appearance, but with the embedded lines of code for purposes of authentication. I admit I was impressed; that is until I saw my false name.

"Mildred? You gave me the name _Mildred_?"

"Well," he drawled, the sound of a grin in his words, "we can't have you using your real name, now can we?"

"Yes, but Mildred?" I snorted. "What possessed you?"

He popped his head out of the doorway and shot me a mischievous smirk. "I thought you looked like a Mildred."

I cocked an eyebrow at his obvious bait, and chose another route. "Mildred is not a common human name. It will likely be remembered."

"By salarians?"

"Did you see the security personnel at the dock? Not all are salarian." I stated curtly.

A moment of silence followed and I smiled inwardly at his pause. Perhaps he was not as clever as he believed and that thought was both delicious and disappointing.

"Better get ready." His voice was even, absent humor. "We'll need to be at the docks and ready to board within the hour."

I nodded, if only to myself, and untangled my limbs from the bed sheets. We needed little and planned to travel light, stowing the basic necessities with our stolen goods. I stuffed the clean clothes and toiletries back into our shared bag, securing my identicard within my pocket. Mildred would stay hidden until the need arose. Luck willing, Vale's mockery would raise nothing more than eyebrows.


	28. Chapter 28

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

A/N: This chapter is rated M for f/f and other naughtiness.

Chapter 28

I had no need to worry over my fake name. The identicards Vale modified were flawless and it was a salarian security officer who monitored the scan. No doubt every human looked the same to him just as the majority of salarians looked identical to me. Aria had taught me to recognize the subtle differences: the slant of the eyes, skin color and tone, posture and bearing, but the characteristic I found easiest to identify was hesitation – the slight pause before a practiced lie. It seemed universal; those individuals with something to hide always exaggerated their mannerisms, and to someone like me such a slip up was an invitation no matter how minute the error.

I sighed with memory, the ache of longing stirring once more within. I missed consistency, security, even if it was only an illusion. Reality had a bitter edge and even though I owed him my life, I resented Vale for taking the veil from my eyes.

He was a step behind me in line, eyes heavy with fatigue. We had been up late last night, each working on our individual projects. Thankfully, his was successful. I had yet to test my cloak and I would not consider it in working order until I did so. I missed my cloak.

The line moved forward as boarding began and I heard Vale grunt with effort as he shouldered the bag. He would not hear of stowing away our only belongings in a cargo hold and I agreed with him. We both knew all too well how lax security was in the hold. Although I wondered if he was purposely exaggerating his efforts; the bag was not nearly as heavy when I had carried it to our room.

I stumbled ungracefully onboard the transport, the aisles between seats narrow and packed with passengers. The rank stench of cramped travel filled my nostrils and I suddenly wondered if another trip in a crate wouldn't have been so bad. Slowly, pushing aside my distaste, Vale and I made our way forward, brushing passed others in an attempt to find a vacant overhead compartment.

Luckily, we need not look far and I turned to point out a compartment off to our right. Pushing past the stationary salarian in front of me, I reached for the lid, pulling Vale with me despite the irritated protests of anonymous travelers. He shot me a questioning glance, but I wrenched the bag from out his hands and tossed it into the compartment. Satisfied that at least we had accomplished one goal on our travels, I settled in to a nearby seat, only to have Vale plunk down beside me.

"It would be better if we didn't advertise to everyone we are traveling together, don't you think?" I hissed. I had no doubt that anyone attempting to track me down would be on the lookout for a man and woman traveling together.

Vale shrugged indifferently and sunk further into his seat, knees pushing against the chairs in front of us. "Maybe, but we boarded together. It would look worse if we sat apart."

An irritated sigh escaped my lips. I hated to admit it, but he had a point.

And so I readied myself for another journey, air thick with the scent of alien races, the murmur of indistinct voices a low buzz in my ears. My thoughts wandered until I realized I was grinning stupidly, marveling at the similarities in travel as if the last two hundred years had not occurred. Flights were still crowded, space was limited, and I was almost positive at least one of the washrooms failed to work properly. From my vantage, the glamour of the future – the propaganda of Citadel space – was not but a lie. Yes, reality indeed had a bitter edge.

Time ticked away, the dragging pace akin to the plodding of an inebriated elcor, but far less entertaining. Various travelers meandered through the narrow aisles, shifting seats and exchanging insults. The temperature in the cabin slowly rose and I had a thin sheen of sweat upon my brow by the time we finally were cleared for launch. Vale didn't so much as twitch during liftoff, so deep asleep was he.

I took a moment to study him in the light of day, realizing that this was perhaps the first time I had seen him as such. He looked no different without the mask of flickering light and shadow, save the color of his hair. What I had once taken to be dark was not as such. A mop of chestnut topped his head, streaks of bronze glinting in the sun's rays. A stray lock curled around the tips of his ears and I resisted the urge to brush it away.

Soft snores brushed passed his lips and I frowned in irritation. Why did men always seem to breathe so loudly?

Restless silence settled over the cabin as the transport entered the lower troposphere and remained so until the darkness of space filled the viewports. The air seemed to expand as the passengers relaxed ever so slightly, the murmuring of voices once more accompanying my symphony of boredom. With Vale snoring on my left, and a surly turian across the aisle to my right, I was at a loss as to what to do with my time. Until I remembered my omni-tool.

This was the opportunity I had been waiting for, and leaving Vale's rhythmic snoring behind me, I made my way to the nearest washroom. Situating myself as best I was able in the small space, I activated my 'tool and contacted Aria. I had little doubt she would have words aplenty for me.

"Jin?" Her voice was even, but despite the display's distortion, I recognized the barest hint of anger upon her face. "Report. Where are you?"

"In transit. Off world." Adrenaline surged with my lame response. She would not appreciate such a vague answer.

She met my eyes through the display and I could feel the heat of her fury even so. "What exactly happened to my bar?"

I explained the situation as I knew it: an unidentified band had laid waste to her holdings in their attempt to terminate me. I made no mention of Vale or our escape in that damnable crate.

"Come home. I need you here. We have business to take care of." Again her voice was even, but her eyes sparked with the same fury I had seen before.

I could not go back. Not yet. "I may have a lead – I'm looking into it now. I'm sure you'll be interested to know who is costing you credits these days." I marveled inwardly at the ease at which the lie slipped through my lips.

A slight twitch of her jaw, but otherwise nothing betrayed Aria's ire. "Is that so?"

"Yes." Too fast. She would know – had to know I was lying.

"Your lead," she purred. "He wouldn't happen to be named Vale, would he?"

My face was a mask. I didn't so much as blink at her question. Perhaps Aria had taught me well after all. "You've news?" An open question, vague. I could be asking about anything.

The display flickered, but I recognized the hint of a smile curling a single corner of her lips. "Traipsing around the Terminus with a Cerberus lackey, are you? Dangerous jaunt, that."

The breath caught in my throat. "Cerberus?"

Aria nodded slowly, her smile widening. "Oh yes. He has ties to Cerberus - likely a direct operative."

"Likely?" I ignored the pounding of my heart, adrenaline racing through my veins, and focused on maintaining the blank expression on my face. "It's not like you to be unsure." I winced internally. Stepping carefully in conversation with my employer did not include antagonism.

Her eyes narrowed a fraction. "Indeed. My sources tell me many things these days."

Alarm thundered in my head and I adjusted the display, heightening the distortion and warping the image. "I'm sorry." The apology sounded sincere to my nervous ears. "I'm getting interference from the sun's radiation. I will contact you again as soon as I am able."

I could barely make out Aria's face as my display flickered rapidly, her mouth open as if to speak. I snapped off my 'tool, unable to continue my charade. I pushed as far as I was willing to go today, Aria's words – her voice echoing in my ears. I doubted she was lying as she had no need. Vale was Cerberus. I should have known.

I leaned back, the walls of the tiny stall seeming to press in against me. A hint of foulness clung to the air, building in potency as the temperature rose. I snorted in disgust, taking a moment longer to enjoy my solitude, albeit while holding my breath.

I slid through the narrow aisle as I returned to my seat, deftly avoiding the numerous travelers and their appendages that seemed ever present and in my path. Swallowing my annoyance I brushed past Vale, stepping carefully over his legs, and sinking into the seat by the viewport. After my trek through the craft, I had no desire to sit by the aisle. While I wished for distraction from my foul mood, I did not wish to have travelers carelessly bump into me during transit. Such annoyances would only serve to darken my mood.

However, a dark mood seemed to be the status quo of late.

I searched the stars out the viewport, traces of their light dotting the darkness of the void. Letting idleness take me, I allowed my thoughts to wander aimlessly, questioning the length of our trip and longing for the snug comfort of the chair in my apartment. I'd given little thought to my possessions and the memory of familiarity stung. Mentally, I brushed aside my care, forcing down my burgeoning frustration.

Time moved slowly in transit, marked only by the sluggish passing of Osun as it seemed to grow smaller in the viewport, its glow diminishing the closer we came to the relay. Vale woke once to eat, handing me one of the mealbars he'd stashed in his jacket. I had little appetite and ate more out of necessity than hunger, my eyes never leaving the darkness of the void beyond. It seemed comforting, the fading of the light; a reflection of my mood as well as my life. I had thrived in darkness, in anonymity, and as Osun's light was finally eclipsed, I took comfort in its shadow.

Darkness enveloped the transport. The other travelers had taken a cue from the shadows and another restless quiet descended, blanketing the passengers in reticence. I heard an occasional mutter, a hoarse whisper, but otherwise there was nothing. Even the stars seemed flat and listless in their inky heaven.

Vale shifted slightly beside me, his now familiar soft snores breathy and even. Again I allowed my thoughts free rein, drifting over memory and settling on hot skin and pliant flesh. A flood of emotion struck me and I shut my eyes tight against an ache I'd thought firmly contained. I sunk deeper into my seat, curling into myself as the taste of her lips and the scent of her body dominated my consciousness. Gradually, and with much effort, I slowed my breathing to a more controlled rhythm, the power of the ache dissipating only marginally.

With some semblance of control I sifted through the memory of that evening, buried so deep in my past I'd almost forgotten. She'd left work early, trading shifts with another dancer, and had come straight to my quarters at the time. Uta had brought with her a bottle of wine, a gift from a patron, and we'd gotten drunk on it and each other. Her skin tasted of sharp spice and smoke, and the heat of her lips blazed a trail over my body.

A lust-laden sigh escaped me as I fought to control the memory, but I was lost to it even as my hand snaked down my body. I spared only a brief glance at my surroundings, and noted nothing of import in the darkness. Even the sound of Vale's snores did nothing to dissuade my need, and my fingers pressed against soft warmth in the lightlessness. I was poised to melt as the memory took hold.

_A shower of shadows danced across her body as she approached, the sheen of sweat on her skin glimmering softly in the dim light. She smiled, eyes sparkling with mischief and desire as she kneeled before me. I remained seated, the glass of wine half-empty in my trembling hands, mesmerized by the sight of her. She was absolutely breathtaking._

_Delicate fingertips traced formless patterns up my legs, the teasing smile upon her lovely face brightening the room. Her knowing eyes danced with lust and I set my glass aside lest it spill the forgotten spirits within. The sweet taste lingered on my lips and I bent down to catch hers in a soft kiss._

_She tasted of wine with a hint of musk, a flavor I had become intimately familiar with, and my heartbeat increased its already rapid pace. Her light touch sent waves of pleasure through my system, the warmth of the tiny room building, heat lingering on my skin even as the tickle of her lips sent shivers up my spine._

_A throaty laugh escaped me and I almost gave up the pretense of control, moving to the floor to meet her, to feel the press of her body against mine. We tumbled drunkenly onto the fuzzy rug she had bought only a week before, the frayed edges ignored in our pursuit of pleasure even as the stringy fibers clung to our damp bodies. I pulled a stray thread from her skin, tracing the lines of her shoulder to her bare breasts, hypnotized by the play of low light against her nakedness. She smiled once again, eyelids lowered as she arched her back invitingly._

_I complied, pinning her wrists above her head, conscious of her curves beneath me. She moved subtly, enticing me as her hips pushed against mine. I traced a path down her body with my free hand, cerulean flesh quivering in anticipation beneath my fingertips. I studied her reactions intently, the openness of her expressions both foreign and intriguing to me._

_Her breathing grew ragged as my wandering fingers traced small circles further and further down her body, the heat of her flesh scorching against my own. I dipped down and tasted her once more, her lips demanding and insistent upon my own. I smiled inwardly, not quite ready to give in even as I felt the soft warmth of her yearn for me._

_Wrapping her legs about my midsection she pulled me to her, hips riposting hard against my own. A slight grunt escaped her, barely audible over the pounding of my heart, and I felt my control slowly slip into oblivion. Relenting, I plunged into her, tasting and nipping at the tender flesh of her neck. Once more she arched her back, her supple figure damp and hot as the tang of her sweat seared my tongue. Unfamiliar emotion flooded my core and I tried to drown my confusion in our passion. _

Vale's soft snores continued unabated as my breath came in uneven gasps. The muscles of my hand ached with fatigue even as desperate pleasure rippled through my body. I shut my mouth against the sharp tide of ecstasy, the remnants of memory gradually fading as languor settled in its place, the taste of Uta remembered once more. Sated, my eyelids drooped, heavy with sleeplessness; and I let exhaustion finally take me.


	29. Chapter 29

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

Chapter 29

My eyes shot open as the forces of gravity demonstrated their powers, pressing me into the aged cushions of my seat. Sharp blue light showered the cabin's interior in a momentary maelstrom of color, disappearing as quickly as it had come. The cabin remained silent save for the wailing of a young child. Even Vale's rhythmic snoring had ceased. I looked about wildly, my thoughts still fuzzy with sleep, still clouded by memory.

"Relax," a familiar tenor drawled next to me. Vale shifted in his seat, knees still pressing against the chair in front of him. "It's only the relay. The jump's already over, see?"

I followed the line of his finger as he directed my attention once more out the viewport. The massive relay dominated my vision, brilliant lights flickering in the void, adding a spot of color to an already impressive view. It was an incredible feat of engineering and I could only wonder as to the genius of its design. But that was a puzzle better left to those more suited to it than I. At present, I had more pressing matters to deal with.

"How long until we dock?"

Vale shot me an unreadable look, brows furrowing ever so slightly. "You in a hurry?"

I schooled my expression to neutrality. "Just curious. I've never been to Illium before." I licked my dry lips and turned my eyes once more toward the viewport, the twinkling stars barely visible amidst the glow of the relay.

"Given the average speed of our transport, I'd guess it will be about a standard cycle before we make it planetside." I heard the rustle of fabric as he shrugged beside me. "Give or take a few hours."

I pursed my lips in annoyance. "Accuracy is not your strong suit, then?"

"In situations like this, Sweetheart, it's always a crapshoot."

I cringed inwardly at the unfamiliar term of endearment, his unassuming tone adding additional insult. "Don't call me that." Another rustle of fabric sounded beside me, brushing against my arm softly, but I pushed aside the sensation and continued to stare into space.

"What would you prefer?"

The warmth of his breath tickled the bare skin of my neck and irritation flared anew at his unnecessarily close proximity. "You've arranged to meet your contact, I assume?" Ignoring his obvious bait I changed the subject, enjoying the brief huff of annoyance that escaped him.

Vale sunk back once more into his seat, pausing only momentarily before answering. "I have. She's made arrangements for us."

"Do you trust her?"

"No."

The word fell like a stone from his lips, but the certainty in his voice surprised me not at all. His mysterious contact was a means to an end and the only one of his numerous allies who had responded to his queries. She was a last resort and had the potential to limit the disaster that was his latest endeavor. The knowledge that I was likely the cause of his current quandary was both frustrating and satisfying, and I found the amalgam of conflicting emotions quite vexing.

Despite my continued aversion to his presence, my curiosity remained. I could not pin him down, couldn't quite figure him out, and it was an ability I'd always prided myself on. I knew people – knew their desires, their motivations, their weaknesses, but this man continued to defy all logic. He doggedly pursued his goal, chasing the opportunity for wealth and power even as he dodged death to rescue me, and yet toward me his behavior constantly fluctuated. His mood seemed ever changing, his motivations a mystery, and I wondered as to the truth behind his stated goal.

I could not get a fix on him and it irritated me to no end.

"Tell me of the arrangements." I felt his eyes upon me even as I continued to look away, pretending to be mesmerized by the slowly receding shape of the relay. Its flickering sharp lights had faded, settling down into a faint glow as the monstrous machine awaited its next activation.

"She's reserved us a room at one of her hotels on Nos Astra." Vale shifted in his seat again, attempting in vain to acquire more leg room and alleviate the pressure on his knees. A frustrated curse escaped his lips as he banged against the seat in front of him, settling once more into an uncomfortable position. "Damn bastards pack us in here – screw comfort for credits."

I hid my smirk and attempted to ignore his grumbling, focusing instead on gathering information. I was curious as to just who this woman was. "She owns the hotel?"

"She owns several." Vale snorted, slouching down into his seat and angling his legs toward the aisle, his knees finally free from pressure for the moment. He let out a long, easy sigh and closed his eyes in relaxation. "She's got her fingers in quite a few different pies."

I nodded, his description familiar. I did not doubt, given Illium's infamy, that Vale's contact had the ability to assist us, but it was the price of her cooperation that I questioned. While I did not consider myself business savvy, I was hardly naïve enough to believe aid ever came without payment. Our skills would buy her support and I had little doubt she would require our use on multiple occasions. However, I had no desire to trade one boss for another, a known entity for that which was wholly unknown.

I turned toward Vale, his eyes heavy-lidded and a half-smile upon his face. "And when are we to meet this contact of yours?"

He made no move, but even in the dim light I saw the muscles of his jaw tighten. "She'll be in touch."

Needless to say I found the situation unsettling at best. I studied him a moment longer, still ignorant of his motives, still questioning his ability to seemingly remain so calm in the chaos we currently found ourselves. I doubted he had a plan at all, following whatever whim sounded most profitable in the moment, and reaching blindly for whatever assistance luck had available. However, if Aria's intelligence was correct and he was indeed a Cerberus lackey, it was likely a clever ruse to keep me off guard and always guessing.

I frowned as the thought sunk in, fueling my ever-increasing resentment towards this man. Why I had ever let myself believe I could tolerate his presence for mere intelligence gathering, I could not say. He was aggravating, and while he occasionally showed glimpses of cleverness, I could not help but doubt his consistency. The only characteristic of his that had remained stable since first we met was his innate ability to irritate me.

I sighed heavily in annoyance and turned my attention toward the void. Truly, I was on my own.

The remainder of our trip passed slowly. I whittled away the hours staring out the viewport and contemplating the various impediments that had been thrown in my general direction. I had not thought to ever be in such a quandary, although in hindsight, I had never given much thought to anything but the hunt, to the pursuit of purpose.

I was a fool and I allowed my dark humor to bubble forth, a wry smile curling my lips. I was quite fond of disposing of fools. A pity I had not planned better. Glancing at him, I supposed Vale would have called me paranoid. However, had I been so, I doubt he would be at my side to point out the obvious.

Light filtered through the cabin, the golden glow of Tasale building in intensity the closer we drew to our destination. The flight had taken longer than I had hoped, although the pilot's decision to navigate around the asteroid belt instead of through it was worth the delay. I had no desire to end up a smear on a space rock and time was the one luxury that I could afford at present.

From what I could tell, Vale had remained awake during the last leg of our journey, occasionally shifting in his seat and vacating it twice to make his way to the washroom. For my part I ignored him, listening instead to the shifting sounds of the travelers in the cabin. Their mutterings had grown louder the brighter the sun's light became, anticipation and excitement building as did Illium's shadow.

I marveled at the planet's beauty, the scene before me so at odds with my knowledge of its reputation. White wispy clouds gently blanketed the blue and grey landscape beneath, hazy shadows flitting across the land. A shower of light danced beneath us as the transport adjusted course, navigating toward Illium's dawn and our port of call.

I let slip a light sigh of relief, pushing aside my anticipation for practicality. Taking advantage of Vale's absence, I pulled our baggage from the overhead compartment and set in on my lap. I had little desire to struggle with our possessions amidst a throng of passengers eager to disembark, and so sat back in my seat, bag in hand, and waited for the travelers' tension to disperse.

Vale returned shortly thereafter, his eyes darting briefly to the bag in my grip as he took his seat, his posture awkward as he attempted to angle his legs toward the aisle. He grumbled irritably as passengers bumped and brushed against him in their hurry to vacate the transport. I did not hide my amusement, which served only to darken his mood, and I reveled in his discomfort. By the time we finally stood to leave, Vale was suitably aggravated and I was thoroughly enjoying myself, my mood made all the more spectacular by the view that welcomed me.

I was greeted by the sunrise as we stepped into the open air of the spaceport. Countless rays of pink and purple, shot through with streaks of yellow and fading indigo dominated the brightening sky. The lofty towers, while partially obscuring my view, actually added to my awe. Brilliant architectural marvels dotted the horizon, the simplicity of the statuesque designs amplifying the grandeur that was Nos Astra. Finally, I understood why visitors would risk much to travel to Illium: it was breathtaking.

"If you're done gawking, I've got us a cab."

I closed my mouth, realization dawning that it had been left hanging open in my wide-eyed stupor. My earlier humor evaporated and I joined Vale at the transport hub, the whine of the cab's engines pulsating loudly as it powered up. I tossed our bag into the back and hopped in, Vale following behind me. He punched in the coordinates of our hotel and we were off, my first glimpse of Illium behind me, the lingering threads of awe remaining. I smiled softly in thought. I might actually enjoy myself here.

We arrived at our hotel with little difficulty and I kept my eyes open and senses aware during transit. I needed to familiarize myself with the area and concentrated my focus, keeping my awe at bay. I need not exert myself as the streams of traffic did not present the spectacular view that the sunrise had.

Upon arriving at the hotel an asari clad in crimson met us, directing staff to offer assistance as they fanned out in greeting. A bright smile lit her face as she approached and Vale greeted her with a warmth I had never before witnessed. A burst of irritation churned in my gut, but I forced it aside, choosing instead to study the layout of the lobby as we entered the opulent building.

A large fountain dominated the area and a veritable simulated jungle of rich plant life was strewn throughout the lobby. The asari's heels echoed loudly against the imported marble flooring as she led us to check in at an oversized desk, her bright smile never faltering once. Vale took care of the arrangements as I listened with half an ear, taking note of the number of staff and exit routes. While the lobby was an open area, I felt more at ease with the added cover of flora. I could understand why plants had a calming effect as they were distracting and could provide impromptu cover when need be.

Satisfied with the arrangements, Vale regained my attention as we made our way to the lifts and eventually our room. I smiled at the wistful carvings decorating the double doors only to frown upon entering our room. One bed, no matter how luxurious, would not suffice. I tossed the bag onto the floor and shot Vale a sharp look.

"What?" He asked innocently, sinking into the soft mattress with little heed to the question between us. He patted the space beside him invitingly. "You really need to feel how comfortable this is."

A noncommittal grunt escaped before I could stop it, and I glared out the window, the scenic view of the horizon doing little to assuage my mood.

"Jin," he patted the bed again almost playfully, an expectant look on his face.

I shifted my glare toward him, eyes softening as they met his, a gentle smile spreading across my face. Maintaining some semblance of dignity, I glided over to the bed and leaned over him, licking my lips ever so gently. I watched as the muscles of his jaw twitched, the steady rhythm of his breath catch, and inwardly celebrated my tiny triumph. Without a hint of remorse I snatched two pillows quicker than he could blink and tossed them onto the floor, pulling the knife from my boot and testing its sharpness.

"I believe the floor will suffice." The tone of my voice brooked no argument, and with no need for further conversation, I embraced familiarity and moved through the motions of my forms. Vale, for his part, remained silent upon the bed and the remainder of my day was blissfully dull.


	30. Chapter 30

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

Chapter 30

Vale's snores drifted through the room, an oddly comforting accompaniment to rhythm of my forms. He had long since abandoned his obvious attempts to bait me, although I questioned how long my respite would last. As it was, I took advantage of the relative silence, enjoying the building pain and fatigue as sweat dripped down my brow. I had gone too long without practicing and recognized my body's complaints.

Centering myself, I completed the last of my forms, my feet shuffling awkwardly into the final position. A deep breath filled my lungs, the taste of fresh air foreign and sweet upon my tongue. Grabbing a towel I moved to the window, once more taking in the glorious vista. Illium had obliterated my preconceived notions of beauty and I was pleasantly surprised. However, I knew better than to trust the view and finally understood a saying I had heard long ago: Illium was Omega in expensive shoes.

Danger oft arrived in beautiful packages, attraction perfect bait for the unwary. I glanced over at Vale's sleeping form, and even with the knowledge that he was familiar with Illium, I knew I could take no chances. I had no doubt he would sell me out if the price was right, and I tired of being on the short end of the take. If there was profit to be had, or knowledge to be gained, then _I_ would take it.

Tossing the towel aside I moved into the washroom and stripped the sweaty clothes from my body, carefully setting my knife on the countertop. The gilded blade glistened in the light, beautiful and wickedly sharp, ivory handle smooth from years of use. I ran a finger over it almost lovingly, many memories tied to it, because of it, and I pushed aside the thoughts of the past.

Water exploded above me, cleansing me of sweat and grime, rinsing away the shreds of memory that threatened to surface. I indulged for a time, my thoughts driven away to be replaced by blessed emptiness. Steam surrounded me, blanketing the marble room in a hot haze. When I could bear no more, I stepped from the shower, relishing the soft fluffiness of the expensive towels. The idea to thank Vale for the amenities briefly flashed through my mind before I discarded the thought quick as it had come. If anyone was to thank, it was his mysterious contact. However, I had yet to learn the price of such favors.

I wrapped the towel about my body, the heat of the shower slowly dissipating, and grabbed my knife before exiting the room. I stopped mid-step, surprise writ plainly upon my face as I entered our shared living quarters. Before me stood Vale, naked as the day he was born, his expression mirroring my own. Without thought, my eyes wandered down the line of his torso, the slight curve of his hips, curiously noting the scar upon his smooth, toned chest. I caught myself, but not before a knowing smile passed over Vale's face. I shrugged indifferently, wary of the towel wrapped around my own naked body, and breezed by him with casual ease to our shared baggage. He was not the only one in need of clean clothes.

An echo of memory surfaced. My wrists suddenly felt exposed and I yearned for the feel of tight leather, of cool metal against bare skin. The muscles of my back tightened and long buried shame burst force with renewed vigor. My poise faltered amidst craving for the lash and I plopped unceremoniously on the bed, struggling to control the torrent of emotion that now overwhelmed me. Vale shot me a curious glance as he paused in his motions, unbuttoned trousers hanging off his hips. I stared at the floor, anger darkening my face as if the ornate tiles had offended me.

I turned toward Vale, my anger rising as I recognized the thinly veiled concern upon his face. Arch had expressed concern, had tended the very wounds his desires inflicted. I was no stranger to the appetites of men, to the atrocities committed in the name of greed and want and lust. It was a constant in a sea of ever changing variability. Their masks may differ, but always their passions were present, as sick and twisted as was I.

We remained apart, the silence stretching between us. I stared once more at the floor, willing my shame to disperse while Vale stood helpless and impotent beside me. I knew he was as uncomfortable with the situation as I, but I was too focused on regaining control and spared little thought for him. He left soon enough, disappearing into the washroom and leaving me to wallow in my torment. I found the thought of a witness to my weakness appalling, and I hated that I appreciated his well-timed absence. Such emotional complications had no place in my world anymore.

"She's made contact." Vale stated bluntly as he stepped from the washroom only minutes later. He stood awkwardly, toweling his hair dry, bare-chested and damp from the shower.

I had not the courage to meet his eyes and instead nodded numbly, anger still simmering beneath the surface. "When do we leave?"

I could feel his eyes on me, searching, questioning, but still I stared at the floor. "Within the hour. We're to meet her at her club."

I snorted with contempt; a meeting with a mysterious contact in a club on an infamous planet? It sounded far too familiar for my tastes, but my choices were few. I would play along for now.

O o O o O o O

We stepped out of the cab and into a maelstrom of flashing lights and color. Bass pounded in my ears, rippling from the gaudy monstrosity before me. Heavily decorated doors were propped open to admit the many party-goers, the sounds of drunken revelry echoing from within. I shot Vale a glare, making my distaste known. Already I hated this club.

"Don't say anything." He muttered, intently scanning the crowd. "I'll do the talking."

I cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing, mimicking him and scanning the crowd before us. I was underdressed compared to the majority of the patrons, clothed in a simple black outfit and knee-high boots. I had decided upon practicality and comfort, although I would've likely hidden better in the crowd had I dressed as a whore.

Shrugging mentally I followed Vale toward the door where two armed guards manned the entrance. Vale murmured into a guard's ear and then clasped his hand. He was talented, but not as smooth as he liked to believe. I smiled as I watched the guard palm Vale's credit chit, wondering why I had even bothered to tag along this eve. The Cerberus lackey obviously had skill enough to succeed on Illium without me.

Sound enveloped me as we entered, lights flashing erratically from the soaring ceilings. A riot of color drifted on the air as scantily clad dancers graced illuminated platforms, their lit stages scattered throughout the open area of the club. I frowned at the shadows writhing throughout the many corners of the bar, the poor lighting on the balconies above me, the many weaknesses someone with my training could easily exploit.

I narrowed my eyes and studied the layout of the dance floor. The large open area was dominated by an enormous stage, a brightly lit bar lining each side, and a massive waterfall against the back. Behind a luminous encasement a number of scantily clad women swayed, their silhouetted curves throwing myriad shadows over the crowd. I pushed aside the enticement that threatened to overwhelm me, fighting sensory overload as I weaved through the club's patrons. I cringed inwardly, willing to remain inconspicuous amongst the throng of lust and sweat, but as we approached the opulent nest of our host, I knew it was impossible.

It was her voice that I heard, a trickle of laughter thick as smoke upon the air. A delicate crystal goblet threw bright rays of color throughout, the light landing on us as Vale and I climbed the stairs. I watched as her eyes narrowed slightly in appraisal and I suddenly felt as if I was a meal in the making. She smiled richly, gesturing for us to sit while simultaneously excusing her entourage. I sat uncomfortably, my hackles raised in suspicion at this woman who oozed sex and charm. Dark eyes burrowed into mine and I met her gaze with scarcely hidden contempt.

Vale did not miss our nonverbal exchange and shot me sharp look of warning. I blinked in recognition, but gave no other indication of my acknowledgement. I had already decided I despised this woman. She shifted; crossing her legs seductively and I could not help but notice Vale's familiarity toward her. They spoke in comfortable tones and easy smiles, greeting each other as old lovers would.

Vale introduced her as Treia and I watched with contempt as his eyes raked over her form. She was not at all oblivious to his attention and, in fact, seemed to welcome it. Her attire did little to hide her assets, the gauzy gown only adding to the creamy blue of her skin, the silken sheen of the fabric practically glowing in the flashing lights. She laughed again, her voice like velvet, and I could not help but question her intentions toward us.

I studied her, observed Treia as she worked Vale with little effort. I rarely had cause to wonder about the rumors of asari promiscuity as it affected me not at all, but upon meeting this ethereal creature, I began to suspect some truth in the matter. She was no stranger to the delights of the flesh and disgust crawled across my skin as I watched the two of them fawn over each other. Public displays of affection and lust irritated me to no end and I found this spectacle particularly disturbing.

I remained quiet as Vale had requested, busying myself with visual scanning. Shadows flickered to and fro, and I flexed my fingers in anticipation, feeling suddenly naked without my pistols. Again Treia's laughter filled the air and despite my better judgment, I was drawn to the caress of her voice.

"Do you see something you like, dear?" Treia's rich voice floated above the din, deep eyes fixed firmly upon me. A predatory smile spread across her face, her glass clinking lightly as she set it to the side. Vale shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his plans for me to remain silent suddenly gone awry.

I met her eyes, searching their depths for hidden meaning. I had no doubt she understood the sexual potency she exuded, wielding it like an invisible leash, a weapon when necessary. Although I noticed similarities between the two asari, I doubted Treia was as powerful or as skilled as Aria. However, I was in her club on her world. It would be unwise to underestimate her. Instead, I reined in my building animosity and attempted to play along with Vale's game.

"There are many things I like," I answered vaguely, adding a hint of desire to my tone.

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow in interest and I watched Vale's gaze drift to study the shape of her lips as she spoke.

I ignored my irritation at his obvious attraction, wishing that he would exercise at least a little bit of restraint, and refocused my energies on the game at hand. "Indeed." I smiled for her then, my predatory grin matching her own.

She laughed again, her amusement a heady mix of enticement, but instead of relaxing response I assume it was meant to evoke, I stiffened warily. Her merriment carried an edge of expectation and I could only guess as to what she had in store for us. My sudden disquiet did not go unnoticed.

"Whatever is wrong, my dear? Does my company not suit you?"

I glanced at Vale, his eyes narrowing in warning, and words poured from my lips with little thought. "I am not always fond of sharing."

It was a gamble, an unexpected gamble from the surprised expression on his face, and I saw the tension in Vale's pose ease as Treia erupted into laughter once more. She leaned back on her overstuffed lounge and sipped lightly on her crystal goblet.

"He is a prize, is he not?" Her dark eyes glittered in the flickering lights as she searched mine. "Our dear Vale has many skills, although I'm sure you've a few tricks as well." A low, almost animal rumble escaped her and for a moment I wondered if I had heard correctly. However, judging by the look she shot Vale, I need not question my ears.

Vale cocked his head, a wry smile gracing his features. "Jin is full of surprises, but I'm sure even she could learn a thing or two from you."

Again I pushed away my irritation, noting with disdain his obvious flirtation as he traced restless circles on her thigh. They shared a knowing glance and then turned their attention toward me. I had no need to hide my ire as I met Vale's gaze. I should have expected such overly hormonal behavior from the lout I took him to be. As before, I scanned the crowd, inwardly berating the shadows that obscured my vision.

"Vale, I do believe your friend is slightly jealous." A delicious smile spread across her face as she teased me, eyes darkening ever so slightly.

I stood suddenly, unwilling to be the butt of her jokes. "We should leave."

Vale grabbed my arm, pulling me to him almost viciously. "What the hell are you doing?" he hissed. "Don't fuck this up, Jin."

I shook off his arm and stalked down the stairs, the need to escape overwhelming me. Vale followed hot on my heels, wrenching me around to face him. "Are you insane? Pissing on Treia's hospitality won't earn you any favors."

I narrowed my eyes as I met the green of his glare, voice dripping with venom. "I'm sorry. I thought you were too busy pawing over your contact to give thought to business."

A flicker of confusion crossed his face. "This is business." He frowned, expression mirroring my own. "What's your problem?"

"Nothing." I shook my head, willing my thoughts to clear of the creeping dread that dogged me. "I'm going back to the room."

Vale held my gaze for a moment longer. "I'm staying."

I watched as his face tightened, the light in his eyes darken with decision. He did not look happy with his choice, but I felt the sting of his simple words nevertheless. "Very well."


	31. Chapter 31

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

Chapter 31

My knife was sharp, exceedingly so, and as well it should be. I had been working almost an hour at the repetitive task upon my return to our rooms, my temper needing an outlet and finding little to occupy my mind. I fingered the hilt, gilded and polished smooth, still beautiful after years of wear. My eyes drifted along the length of the blade, the edge tapered to a fine point and I absently traced my finger along the cool metal. I started in surprise at the thin trickle of blood, realizing belatedly that I'd cut myself. The pain was an afterthought, and I sat momentarily confounded by my own carelessness.

I set the blade aside and wiped the blood from my finger. The cut was shallow, barely deep enough to draw blood, but I wrapped it in a small bandage nonetheless. I had no need of more clothes with blood stains on them.

With little else to do I toyed with my cloak, adjusting the settings and testing its functionality. I was pleasantly surprised when my vision shifted momentarily, a slight haze obscuring my sight as the tech activated. I stood, satisfied with my lack of reflection in the opulent mirror before me. It seemed my tinkering had the intended effect. I had missed my cloak and felt more at ease now that it was back in working order.

Sighing, restless once again, I mulled over the events of the evening. I was disgusted with Vale and annoyed with my reaction. I should have remained calm, played the game and garnered what information I could. Instead I was alone in a hotel room, no further along in my mission than I was before our meeting. I sighed again in irritation, noting the brief reflection of light off my omni-tool. With Vale gone, no doubt busy committing nauseating acts of debauchery with Treia, it was the perfect time to examine the files I had downloaded from Guy-Arnold's apartment. Shaking my head and cursing my stupidity I switched on my 'tool, only slightly annoyed I had not thought of it sooner.

Data scrolled quickly down the display and I adjusted the setting to better view his information. The files had not been encrypted, for which I was thankful, but I was surprised by the lack of security. Perhaps Guy-Arnold never thought to have others poking through his finances? Of course I'm sure he didn't expect to be sedated and left to rot in his apartment as it filled with noxious fumes either. Life, it seemed, was full of many surprises.

I paused the feed as the deposits seemed to decrease in frequency, but increase in amount. Studying the records it appeared that my former target had accepted several large payments through a payer designated only as MWF. The large payments were accompanied by the same number of deposits with similar amounts from a different payer, recorded simply as AL. I frowned, sifting through my memory and attempting to identify the acronyms with little success. I tossed the effort aside and refocused on the data at hand.

I checked his account balance and noted with interest that despite the record of deposits, the most recent transfer of funds from AL had been halted. A sly grin crept onto my face. It seemed that the mysterious AL had reason to disrupt the transaction, and while I had some idea as to why, I had not yet enough information to prove my theory correct. I needed more data.

The door swung open suddenly and in an instant I was on the floor, ducking behind cover. A low, drunken chuckle wafted across the room, soon followed by the heavy scent of liquor. I switched off my omni-tool as I stood, meeting Vale's inebriated gaze and raising inquiring brows at his current state. He wobbled slightly and kicked the door closed with a booted foot, the loud noise echoing briefly off the imported tile flooring. He wore a knowing smile upon his face.

"Ah, you waited up for me. I didn't know you cared." He plopped down on the bed, bouncing slightly as he did so, and patted the space beside him.

I frowned, making my displeasure obvious, and remained standing. "I trust your meeting went well?"

He snorted. "As well as could be once you stormed off." He leaned over to pull off his boots, his difficulty balancing on the soft mattress almost comical. "Might've gone better if you'd stayed. Treia seemed rather fond of you. At first."

I shrugged, unwilling to care about the asari tramp's regard. "Yes well, I'm all a-flutter with regret."

Vale grunted as he finally managed to pull off one boot and then the other. He met my eyes with what appeared to be a mixture of irritation and disappointment. "What was your problem, anyway?"

I shrugged again, feigning indifference as I turned away and sat in one of the lounge chairs. "Frankly, you two made me ill. I was just waiting for the drool to start pooling on the floor."

He cocked a single eyebrow. "And here I thought that maybe you _were_ jealous."

"Hardly," I snorted. "I don't care what you do behind closed doors, but it's nauseating to see such gratuitous displays of ineptitude. At your age, I would've expected you to at least exert some modicum of restraint."

Another drunken chuckled escaped his lips. "Treia's seen it all before. No sense in hiding it."

Anger welled up within me and I stood, moving quickly toward the door. The man's innate ability to irritate me seemed to have no bounds and I was loath to remain in the same room with him.

"Where are you going?"

"Out." I shouldered my holsters, the familiar weight calming my frayed nerves.

"You really _are_ jealous." He laughed again and my temper flared. I was quickly growing tired of being the comic relief. "And here I thought Treia was just baiting you. She was right all along."

"Hardly." I blurted again. "Public displays of affection - or in your case blatant groping - disgust me. I had little desire to sit and watch more. I doubt our host would have appreciated my vomit on her expensive shoes."

He chuckled again and stood, the previous wobble all but gone. "Cute, but I don't think that's the case at all."

I huffed and pulled on my jacket, shooting an irritated scowl toward Vale. "Think what you want. I don't care."

I made toward the door, but Vale grabbed my wrist with surprising strength. I turned on him, my irritation quickly turning to anger as I yanked my arm from his grasp. Indignation heated my veins and I seethed with contempt. "How dare you lay your hands on me!"

"What's wrong, Jin?" He stepped to the right, boxing me in and backed me up against the wall. His hands were on me again, pinning my shoulders, liquored breath hot on my face. Vale's voice was low, almost sultry, and drifted over me with the smoothness of silk. "Surely you're used to being a plaything."

My will faltered, surprise at his words momentarily overriding my better sense. I met his eyes and recognized the flicker of heat within. A part of me responded to his drunken desire as warmth crept down my spine, pooling in my core. It was not an unwelcome sensation and I hated myself all the more for it.

Vale took advantage of my surprise, pressing his body to mine and running his lips along the curve of my neck. He reeked of bourbon and Treia's rich perfume, and in that moment my fury sparked anew. How dare he lay a finger on me after all the comments he had made, after pawing on that whore. He had no right, and I let loose the tightly held reins of my temper.

It happened in the flash of a moment. Vale's eyes widened in surprise before quickly doubling over in agony. I used the wall as leverage as I shoved him to the ground, stepping over him in haste as I made my way toward the door. I rarely had need for such an obvious tactic, but a knee to the groin of an aroused man was ever a useful defense. He lay there on the floor, writhing in pain, and I left him with no more than he deserved. Jealousy or no, I was not a plaything to be toyed with.

I slammed the door shut, striding angrily down the hotel's hallway as I seethed with contempt. Fury boiled within and I despised the source. I was as angry with myself as I was with Vale, to be so easily cornered, so easily swayed by green eyes and a silken voice. I had long thought myself to be immune to such cravings and memories of Uta surfaced unbidden.

I could still hear her voice in my thoughts, her unending questions and whispered promises. She had been my solace amidst the storm, my comfort in confusion, and I had lost myself in her for a time. But it ended as all things must, and I pushed away the pain of that memory, willing it from the forefront of my mind. Instead I turned my attention to the present, hastily exiting the opulent hotel lobby and breathing in the rich night air of Illium.

The horizon glowed with the illumination of countless lights, advertisements adorning giant billboards, streams of traffic floating in the dark sky. Oh yes, despite its dangers Illium remained beautiful. I leaned momentarily against the railing and absorbed the sight before me. Regardless of what fate held in store for me, I could take this moment to find peace in beauty, and I did so without hesitation.

I wandered the walkways for hours that evening, welcoming the shadows that clung to the corners high above the ground. The air was sweeter in the heights and a cool breeze kept accompaniment to my morose musings. I enjoyed my aloneness, the fear of trust pleasantly absent on my solitary trek. I debated returning to the hotel, and when I came to no definite conclusion, I allowed my thoughts to wander as freely as I did. And they wandered to my past as they were usually wont to, but instead of Uta I remembered Arch.

I saw him in my mind's eye again as if it were only yesterday, the steadiness of his snores drifting upon the air, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he slept soundly. His face was peaceful, almost beautiful as he dreamed, and I remember in that moment how I had loved him once. Despite his temperament, and despite his appetites, he had also been kind to me and I believed had even loved me in his own way; as much as a man such as he was able to love.

And I killed him.

The memory of that night gave me no pleasure, but I felt no sadness at his demise. In fact, I felt little at all. Those memories I held dearest of our time together were of the lash, the mix of pleasure and pain that I had learned well to enjoy. Such were the events that shaped my future and led me to the predicament in which I now found myself. Such was the sickness inside that I found revolting and alluring as well.

I stared once more into the brightly lit horizon and watched the traffic stream by in a line of colorful lights. Pondering my situation and the web of intrigue surrounding the attempt on my life, I had given little thought to Vale's related predicament. He had saved my life, whether by accident or design, and in doing so tied his fate to mine. I had not seen him with an omni-tool, and he had demonstrated only mediocre technological aptitude, and so I couldn't help but wonder what orders he followed.

Leaning on the railing again I attempted to recall our many encounters. He had seemed only a drunken lout at first, an image he'd done little to discourage, but he had a tendency to appear in the oddest of places. I knew it was no mere coincidence given our venture together, as he was likely ordered to keep tabs on my position and progress.

If he was not lying, and his penchant for honesty was questionable at best, Arnold was bait to lure me out into the open. Vale had remarked that he was contracted to terminate Arnold and in discussions to end my life as well, but another had accepted that particular job. The question with regard to Vale, however, was not who had made attempt on my life, but who gave him his orders now? Was he even in contact with the "independent contractor" since leaving Omega, or was Aria's intelligence correct and Vale's deal was with Cerberus?

So keen on trying to tease apart the threads of intrigue was I that I had blinded myself to Vale's communications, or lack thereof. I had not seen him contact anyone since leaving Omega, but then I had not been as committed to my surveillance of him as I should be. I resolved in that moment to redouble my efforts, to deciphering the mystery of Vale as well as discovering those behind my botched termination. Considering my current lack of options, I had little else to occupy my time.

Straightening, I let loose a deep breath, and with resolve in my step I turned back toward the hotel. Following my omni-tool's map I made good time, only mere hours passing since I had stormed out. The gaudy lights of the hotel came into view, vibrant greens and blues lighting the walkways and leading me ever onward towards the opulent lobby. I turned once more to view the night sky, the blur of light still bright against the darkness. Such beauty was enthralling and even though I longed for the time to enjoy its splendor, there was much work to be done. I entered the courtyard, halting in surprise as a deafening explosion rocked the very air about me.

My reflexes took hold and I dove behind the closest form of cover I could find. I found myself briefly hoping that the enormous stone planter withstood the shock of the blast, and as debris rained down around me, my thoughts ran to other matters. Screams of confusion and pain filled the air, heavy with the acrid scent of smoke and blood, and no longer did I enjoy the sweet breeze. Sparing a glance at the scene around me, I readied myself for the scene of carnage to follow.

The once beautiful hotel was awash in flames. Two floors had been completely destroyed, the decorative glass littering the courtyard. Bodies were strewn haphazardly about, the occasional mound of gore almost recognizable. I crept from my position to a nearby embankment, hiding in a cluster of stunted trees. From my vantage I watched in morbid fascination as the emergency crews arrived, securing the site and dousing the many fires. Survivors wandered aimlessly, blindly following the orders of the rescue teams, blood splashed across their expensive finery.

It took no time at all to recognize that our floor that had been obliterated and I saw no sign of Vale as I observed the goings-on. Much to my surprise, the thought of his loss was distressing. I was awash with a mix of anger and abandonment and in my fury I realized only one individual had knowledge of our whereabouts. The familiar weight of my holsters remembered, I disappeared into the shadows of Illium, intent on a target with creamy skin and a voice like velvet.


	32. Chapter 32

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

A/N: First off, a big Thank You to KassyB and Kudara for sharing their thoughts and feedback, as well as to the readers following along. You all are the motivation that keeps me writing. Secondly, this chapter is rated M for violence.

Chapter 32

I exited the cab a block from the club and sought solace in the shadows of the night, wrapping the darkness about me like a thick blanket. My earlier mess of emotion no longer mattered, anger and frustration abandoned in favor of purpose. Too many questions remained unanswered and so I hunted the one person I knew could enlighten me. Vengeance would wait, but only for so long as Treia remained useful. Despite my need for her information, I could not help but hope she proved worthless. I realized I wanted revenge - a life for a life. And I wanted Vale's killer to know pain.

The line at the club's door had not thinned even as the night wore on, scantily clad patrons continuing to wait their turn for revelry. Bass still thundered from within the gaudy entrance, reverberations echoing down the walkways. Staying to the shadows I activated my cloak and brushed passed the guards, the flickering lights surrounding them masking any possible hint of my presence. It was easier than I had hoped, a fact which roused my suspicions.

I melted into the writhing shadows, easing through the drunken crowd with fluid grace. I paused briefly near the bar, Treia's opulent perch in sight. Watching her merriment, I imagined I could hear her laughter even above the noise of the club. She appeared rather satisfied as I studied her, her posture relaxed and inviting, no hint of remorse or regret. I pushed aside my building fury and continued my course through the shadows.

Treia kept a small entourage with her, a smattering of human and asari and all of them beautiful. She laughed again as she conversed with them, and I paused once more to observe her. If she was as powerful as Vale believed her to be, Treia would have received word of the explosion as soon as it occurred. One would expect that as a businesswoman and owner of our hotel she would be infuriated with damage to her property. However, given Treia's current state of satisfaction, this was clearly not the case. She was celebrating. I'd no doubt she had been party to our intended demise.

My excitement built as I fell into old rhythms, patience and training taking over as I hunted my prey. Continuing deeper into the shadows, my attention remained fixed on Treia. Creamy blue skin glowed amidst the flickering lights, her delicious smile dangerously inviting. Adrenaline pulsed within my veins and I embraced the sensation, finding comfort in the familiar. I could not pounce as yet, she would need to be alone, and I had little doubt that time would come soon.

I exploited the many weaknesses I had observed during our earlier meeting. I allowed my cloak to drop and moved with the shadows, hiding in plain sight amidst the crowd. Always she remained in my sight, and gradually I drew closer to my goal, easily avoiding her lax security. I was almost disappointed that she did not present more of a challenge. Almost.

As even the wealthy and powerful must, Treia excused herself and left her opulent perch. I followed her to the washrooms, the scent of rich perfume trailing in her wake. She moved with ease, sex and power oozing from her in equal measure. Yearning welled up within me as my adrenaline pumped wildly. I longed to feel my hands around her neck, to feel the heat seep from her body as I wiped that delicious smile from her face.

Unlike the rest of her club, the washrooms were well lit, myriad bright lights flashing throughout. I mimicked the movements of the crowd, remaining unseen and forgettable, shadowing her steps as she entered a private stall. Activating my cloak once again I slipped in quickly, latching the door behind me.

She opened her mouth to speak as she turned around, suspicion writ plain across her features when she realized something was amiss. The air shimmered briefly as my cloak dissipated, her searching gaze transforming to one of anger. I pressed my finger to her lips for silence, a predatory grin upon my face.

"Now, now Treia. I recommend you speak only to answer my questions."

A muscled tightened in her jaw and I watched as her eyes narrowed in understanding. She nodded.

"Good." I dropped my finger from her lips and reached for my knife. "The explosion was per your orders or another player in our game?"

She smiled, relaxed and inviting, heat in her gaze. "Now why would I destroy my own hotel, let alone a valuable contact? Really, Jin. What do you take me for?"

I let my smile fade, disappointed in such a stereotypical denial. "I take you for a woman who likes profit." Her gaze flickered a bit and I repeated my question. "Your orders or someone else?"

Her smile widened slightly, voice sultry in the close confines. "Even if I give you the answer you seek, there's nothing you can do. This is my club. My world. You can't touch me here unless I invite you to."

"Truly?" I placed my knife against her neck, recognizing the effect of the cool metal upon her hot skin.

She laughed aloud, eyes bright with amusement. "Such delightful threats you make, Jin. But we both know nothing will come of it."

I smiled sweetly at her then, tracing a line down her arm with my free hand, admiring the play of light on her skin. Reaching for her fingers I toyed with them in mine, feeling the heat of her grip. I met her eyes only for a moment, my gaze turning hard as I applied pressure and twisted my grip. A satisfying pop sounded between us and her expression transformed into one of surprised agony. I glanced down at her hand and briefly contemplated the awkward angle of her index finger.

"I'll ask one more time: the explosion was on your orders or another's?"

Treia spared me a venomous glance as she cradled her broken finger. "Mine."

"Your motive?"

"Power. Money," she answered curtly, her poise no longer collected.

I frowned in thought. "Why kill Vale. Surely he offered you a cut of the deal."

A harsh bark of laughter escaped Treia, her voice no longer velvety smooth. "His employer wants him dead – wants you both dead. Seems he went and pissed off the wrong bunch this time around."

Impatience stirred in my veins and I pushed her against the wall, blade barely piercing the tender skin of her throat. Treia grunted in pain, still cradling her broken finger between us. "Who's his employer? Who gave you the order?" I needed to know - needed to confirm Aria's intelligence. I was loathe to move forward with so many unknowns in my path.

"No," she shook her head awkwardly, a mix of hate and fear in her eyes. "No I can't –"

"Who?" I flicked the blade slightly, parting flesh giving way to a thin trickle of dark violet. Treia gasped in pain.

Her eyes rolled forward in fear, finally come to the realization that I was in control. "No," she whispered. "They'll kill me if I tell you."

A tight smile curled my lips as I felt the hunt reach its climax. "I'll kill you if you don't."

She shut her eyes against me straightened defiantly. "I can't."

"Who is Vale's contractor?" The tone of my voice was devoid of emotion, pitiless. I knew the outcome, recognized her decision, but whether it was stubbornness or stupidity was a mystery. It mattered not, however. Treia remained still, tight-lipped and silent. And so I did what was needed.

She made no noise as she died, the brief look of surprise on her face fading as her body fell to the floor. Blood poured down her broken throat, staining the silken fabric of her dress and pooling beneath her. I squatted down and wiped my blade clean on the expensive material, and although the act was futile, checked her once more for signs of life.

Her eyes were empty, as it should be.

Replacing my knife I stood. I stepped carefully so as not to get blood on my boots, and exited the small stall, blending with the crowd and washing my hands in front of an enormous mirror. I took a moment to check my reflection, mussing my short hair a bit and mimicking the other women. Satisfied with my ruse I left, blending seamlessly once more into the shadows.

Again I moved through the crowds, easing past the drunken revelers with fluidity. I took a winding route toward the exit, remaining hidden within the flickering lights of the many stages. I slipped past a security guard and continued on around the bar. The exit was in sight, but I refused to hurry. Haste brought attention and I had no need of such complications.

I halted my progress, pausing momentarily to observe the goings-on. Given the unchanged atmosphere of the club, no alarm had been sounded. It appeared my deed had not yet been discovered. Taking advantage of my continued anonymity I pressed onward, exiting through the gaudy doors only to run into the face of confused surprise. Vale met my questioning gaze, realization dawning in his expression as we both stood momentarily dumbfounded.

"Jin?" He stepped back and looked me over as if trying to convince himself I was no apparition.

I shook my head, confusion suddenly pooling like a rock in my gut. "I saw you die – saw the explosion."

"No. I left the room shortly after you did." He frowned. "You didn't go back?"

"I came back just as –" A loud scream echoed through the club and a sense of chaotic urgency swept through the crowd. I grabbed Vale's arm and dragged him along behind me. "We need to go. Now."


	33. Chapter 33

Disclaimer: Bioware owns almost all.

A/N: I noticed that one of my new favorite authors, Amanda Downum, added the soundtrack to her new novel on her webpage, and being unoriginal I decided to add my Omega playlist to my profile page for those interested. I will update it as chapters progress and add the song(s) used at the end of each chapter. Secondly, this chapter is rated M for violence.

Chapter 33

Vale matched my brisk pace, following my lead as we stayed to the shadows. He said nothing and he need not. His shock at our meeting had spoken volumes as I'm sure mine had as well. He had believed me dead, killed in the blast that obliterated two floors of Treia's expensive hotel. I could only surmise the bounty on our heads was quite generous to make up for the destruction of such finery. Surely on Illium the newly deceased was insured against random acts of violence, otherwise the explosion would not have been at all cost effective.

We moved through the throng of Illium's foot traffic, weaving in and out of the colorful crowds. It wasn't until the gaudy lights of Treia's club faded into the maelstrom of color that Vale pulled me aside, a frown on his face. I met his gaze with a neutral expression, ignoring the many emotions threatening to surface.

"What did you do?"

It was a question I had been expecting since we made our hasty escape from the club. I'd little doubt Vale knew full well what I had done and was simply looking for confirmation. I would provide it, of course, as he could just as easily find out on his own.

"I tied up a loose end."

He snorted. "So you killed her."

I watched as his eyes darkened and I nodded. "But not before she informed me of the contract on our heads."

"Contract? What contract?" He took a step back, a look of confusion crossing his face, barely visible against the flashing backdrop of Nos Astra's nightlife. "What are you talking about?"

"You mean you don't know?" I couldn't help but smile at the blatant discomfort in his stance. It seemed he was not as necessary a commodity as he had believed and I found I rather enjoyed informing him of the sudden shift in his status. Vale now needed me for more than just a potential payday. His chances of survival were better with my help. I had a bargaining chip, leverage to be used at my leisure.

"Don't toy with me, Jin. What did Treia say?"

"Interesting." I mused aloud. "You don't seem the least bit dismayed that I killed your fancy asari lover."

He had told me not to toy with him, but I couldn't resist. I had an insatiable urge to provoke him, and although I expected his anger, the control with which he wielded it was a surprise. Vale pulled me into the darkened ally and shoved me up against the cold, hard wall, his hands firmly wrapped around my neck. His hot breath upon my face smelled once again of bourbon and I met his fierce gaze with one of my own, long suppressed fury building in my veins.

"What did Treia say?" I barely heard the words, the tone of his voice so incredibly low. He applied slight pressure to my neck and I could feel the thud of my heartbeat against his palm. Still I met his gaze, defiance and anger writ plain across my face, but he moved not a whit. I was trapped within his rancorous embrace.

I was not fond of gambling, of games of chance. Although I had been known to bet a time or two on the vorcha fights, it was more for purposes of entertainment than actual monetary gain. Win or lose I was still able to watch the spectacle in the pits, but rarely did I take that sort of risk with my life. I gambled on the hunt only when I had exhausted all other options, bluffed only when the opportunity presented itself. As I watched the parade of anger flicker across Vale's face I realized now was such a time. I needed to bet my hand.

"She said you pissed off the wrong people this time around – your employer wants you dead." I licked dry lips and showed my cards. "Cerberus has no more need for you."

I knew my gamble had paid off when he started at the last, the very mention of Cerberus causing a slight shift in his focus, a twitch in his grip. Green eyes searched my own and when he released me suddenly without another word, I knew he found what he sought. I was telling the truth.

I relaxed against the wall where he had shoved me and studied his reaction. The dark frown on his face had returned and he clenched his jaw tightly as he paced up and down the alley. I could not pity the man now stuck in the same position as me, the surety of his familiar world turned upside down and inside out. It was almost irony enough to make me laugh had my fate not been tied to his. Regardless of who had been hunting me before, we now had this new contract to deal with and our combined knowledge would serve to keep us alive for a time. I wasn't about to take bets on how long that would be, however.

"I feel like I should welcome you to the club," I quipped nonchalantly, picking a piece of fuzzy lint from off my tunic. I watched as it floated gently to the ground, glancing up only when it dissolved into the small patch of water at my feet. Vale's gaze met mine, his green eyes filled with exasperation.

"Jin, you've –"

His retort was cut short by a hoarse shout not more than ten yards away. Sharp flecks of shrapnel showered down as mass effect rounds pelted the wall behind me and I grabbed Vale's arms again in a hurried parody of our exit from Treia's club. We dashed madly down the alleyway and I mentally cursed myself for yet another near miss. I should've been killed more times than I cared to count were it not for a superb streak of luck.

The alley was littered with trash from the neighboring apartments, Illium's trademark beauty abandoned in its seedier avenues, and my feet slipped out from under me. Vale lurched left as my grip on his arm faltered, both of us ending up in a pool of unrecognizable filth. He tucked and rolled, coming up behind a dumpster, but I was not as nimble. I twisted, landing face down in a puddle of muck, putrescence filling my mouth and plugging my nostrils. I sputtered and rolled sideways into cover as gunfire surged above me.

Righting myself I crouched behind a pile of debris, the taste of trash lingering amidst the rush of adrenaline. I coughed and spat, hoarse shouts from our mysterious assailants echoing down the alley. I strained my ears to listen, recognizing my mistake as they renewed their assault. I had pulled us into an open alley with no surveillance and only one other exit. If Vale and I didn't move soon, our attackers could easily surround us and cut off our escape route.

Vale grumbled loudly as he pulled a pistol from his waistband, taking aim down the alley, my brief flicker of surprise barely registering beside this sudden threat. He fired, but all too late as more gunfire erupted on our six, two more assailants new to the party. Already covered in grime, I dropped to the ground, finding little cover in which to hide. Vale fared only slightly better, jumping into the dumpster.

While I grew ever more familiar with the alley floor, Vale was able to return fire, holding the attention of our newest attackers. A cold calm settled over my nerves, the heat of the firefight churning my blood and tempering my resolve. With no alternative option I activated my cloak, the air shimmering briefly as the tech activated. More hoarse shouts echoed upon the air, male and female voices thick with warning, and I followed the noise to its origin. One pair of our assailants crouched at the mouth of the alley. A faint blue glow surrounded an asari on my right while her human counterpart crouched opposite her. I pulled my pistol and pressed it to the asari's head, squeezing the trigger with more reflex than conscious thought.

The air shimmered again as my cloak dissipated, eliciting a curse from the human male as his partner's body fell to the ground. He turned his gun on me, but in little more than two strides I was on him. His shot went wide to the right as I stepped inside his guard, my movements fluid and automatic. He gasped and sputtered as the ridge of my hand connected with his neck, his response sluggish. Ducking below his wild swing, I shifted my weight slightly and moved into position at his back. Using his momentum against him, I reached around and gripped his chin, wrenching it violently to the left. I recognized the crack of his neck, the feel of his weight now dead in my hands, and shouted my success to Vale. I spared him only a brief glance to make sure he was following. We were once more on the move, racing down Illium's dazzling walkways, and into the chaos surely awaiting us.

* * *

Long Tall Sally - Little Richard

Hey Man, Nice Shot - Filter


	34. Chapter 34

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

A/N: Apologies for the late update. RL got in the way and may again for the next few weeks. I will try to keep updates as regular as possible, however. Also, this chapter is rated M for language because Jin is rather irritated and because I quoted Riddick.

Chapter 34

A four man team for me? Fucking insulting.

I sighed, resting my head against the warm metal of the wall, and scanned the floor of the docking bay beneath me. I had a lovely bird's eye view from my high perch as I replayed the night's string of events in order to make sense of it and maintain some semblance of sanity. I knew the team that attacked Vale and I couldn't have been Cerberus – too poorly trained. Aria wouldn't have sent such sloppy assassins, and Treia was dead.

That left one option: an unknown third party.

My gut told me it was likely some lackey, or even a rival of Treia's looking to move up in the world by taking out her killers and making a name for himself. It was piss-poor planning carried out by an untrained, untried team. I sighed again. I was slowly losing respect for Illium's seedy underbelly, disappointed that such rich and prominent criminals didn't present more of a challenge. While I did favor living, triumphing over an intelligent adversary was a feeling I had yet to experience on this planet. I quite enjoyed that feeling.

However, given my growing disdain and the continuous attempts on my life, it was good that we were leaving Nos Astra behind, although my stomach churned at more time spent inside a crate. Vale and I had few options left to us, and as subtlety had worked in our favor before, we thought to try it yet again.

After our frenzied dash through Nos Astra's streets we found ourselves in the shipping district, enormous docks dominating the brightening skyline. We continued deeper into the neighborhood, intent on losing anyone still on our trail, and found a warehouse that looked promising. Vale hacked into the system while I secured our perimeter. Upon my return to the terminal, Vale announced success and showed me to my new quarters for the trip off world. Needless to say, I was not impressed.

Before me was a large shipping container only partially filled with a variety of canned goods – mostly alien foodstuffs according to the shipping manifest. That it wasn't completely full surprised me little as it was a tactic used by many shipping services out of Omega. Freighter captains used oversized containers for smaller orders and charged full price for the amount of space used aboard their ship. They then used the extra space for "side orders," contraband and smuggled goods hidden away in legitimate cargo. Granted, in the Terminus smuggling was itself a legitimate business, but for those freighters who crossed into Council space, smuggling could well be a death sentence. Those captains who succeeded were slick fucks and I was wary of crossing them.

Vale did not share my concern and I wondered at his lack. He had bid me wait in the container while he scouted the area and gathered supplies, but I was still on edge and restless. With my nerves frayed, my judgment still remained sound, and I slipped out of the container as soon as he was out of sight. Being on the run together was not a good basis for trust.

Ill at ease with his sudden absence I hacked into the docking bay's terminal and attempted to trace his work. I wasn't surprised that he'd erased his keystrokes, hiding any evidence of his tampering, but I was able to note that he'd looped the security feeds. It was only a temporary solution, though. Once the dockhands arrived for their shift, someone was bound to notice that the warehouse surveillance was faulty. If Vale was back in time and we were safely ensconced in the shipping crate, our presence would remain unnoticed. Of course, that all depended on Vale and if he returned at all.

I huffed in mild irritation and skimmed through the many cargo manifests, recognizing our crate. It seemed Vale had changed the shipping status from _active_ to _full_, and the contents to O2 dependent. We would not die of asphyxiation on this trip, but in my mood I couldn't help but wonder if that might be a better alternative to boredom.

In an attempt to thwart my sour mood, I scrolled further down the data stream, curious as to what else was stored within these walls. The list ran the gambit from construction equipment and parts to toiletries, 3D imaging panels to the very latest in interactive pornography. I frowned, irritated that there seemed to be little of use in easy reach.

Frustrated, I wiped clean my keystrokes as Vale had and switched off the terminal. Wary of my surroundings, I climbed up a series of crates until I found a satisfactory perch, the view below open to my ever watchful eyes.

And so I sat and waited, pondering the mysteries of my recent life, musing about the vagaries of men and the discomforts inherent in space travel. So intent on my mind's wanderings was I that I didn't recognize the ring of my omni-tool. She had not attempted to contact me for some time, so it was with a measure of surprise that I switched on my 'tool's feed and faced the slightly distorted face of the pirate queen.

The sly smile gracing creamy blue skin mesmerized me immediately. She knew what she was about, Aria always did, and even in my fatigue I knew she never acted without purpose. As to her current motive, though, I could only guess, and so I fought through the tangle of attraction and exhaustion in order to keep a level head. I could face Aria with no less.

"You're looking rather haggard these days, Jin." Her lips curled ever so slightly and I felt a tingle of excitement shoot up my spine. "You should take better care of yourself."

I nodded in greeting. "Aria."

Her image wavered on the screen, but her expression changed not a whit. "In a bit of a bind, are we?"

"You tell me." I'd no doubt she knew exactly what game was being played, who the players were, and who had stacked the deck. She didn't get to where she was by assigning her agents strictly within Omega's walls. Aria had eyes everywhere.

"You've gone far too long without contacting me." Her smile vanished. "Report."

The steel in her voice cause me to cringe inwardly. After all these years and across such distance she still had a powerful grip on me. I had never before resented her power nor longed to slip my prettied-up leash. Until now.

"My source fell through, but I'm working on another." A partial truth, one I was certain she would believe. The destruction of one of Nos Astra's more decadent hotels was news that would not go unnoticed.

"Another?" I recognized the flicker of amusement in her eyes, the shadow of a smile upon her lips. "Come home, Jin. Save your meddling for those better suited to it."

I'm sure she recognized the hot flash of anger that shot through my system, despite my best efforts to suppress it. "I have to go. I'll report back once I have answers."

I cut the transmission before she was able to respond. I doubt she believed me and it mattered little anymore if she did. I had spoken truly. I would report once I had answers, although to who was uncertain at this point. The more I replayed our brief conversation in my mind, the more unease pooled in my gut, and as I saw Vale slip back into the docking bay and into our crate I realized I would have nothing but time and space with which to contemplate the puzzle surrounding me.

o O o O o O o

I winced as I pulled the large door closed behind me, the metallic ring echoing loudly inside the close confines of the crate. Vale turned about abruptly, the warring expression on his face subsiding as he realized it was only me. He set the newly procured supplies on a pile of goods and eyed me skeptically.

"I told you to wait in here."

"I thought it would be more prudent to keep an eye on our surroundings." I shrugged nonchalantly. "And you know how much I like crates."

His gaze remained on me for a time and I could only imagine the direction of his thoughts. "And did you notice anything interesting about our surroundings?"

I pulled a protein shake from his bag of goodies and leaned back against a large stack of canned Salarian beets. "For starters there was no one trying to kill us. How'd you do?"

He pulled a second shake from the bag and plunked down roughly on a short stack of crates. "Not too bad. We have food." He shot me a rueful smile and gestured broadly around the container. "And we have room to move this time around."

I cocked an eyebrow as I sipped on my shake. "Oh joy. I'll be able to hide behind the tower of eezo-tainted powdered milk while you take a piss in the far corner. My excitement knows no bounds."

To my surprise he laughed heartily and propped his feet up against the wall. "Oh, Jin. I do so love our heart-to-hearts."

I sighed in resignation as I heard the dockhands arrive, their boisterous shouts signaling the start of the morning and our latest venture. I dearly hoped I had the patience and strength of will to resist harming Vale during our trek. I needed him alive, as I was certain he would smell worse as a corpse, a fact which could stay my hand during prolonged bouts of tedium. At least, that was my theory.

* * *

Lonely Day - System of a Down

I'm so Sick - Flyleaf


	35. Chapter 35

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

Chapter 35

"_You're dead."_

_I was face down, cold against the metal paneling of Omega's walkways, unidentifiable grease seeping into my pores. She shifted her weight, the sturdy heel of her designer boot digging into the tender flesh of my cheek. I decided to wait as struggling would only increase my discomfort. I attempted to meet her disapproving gaze and saw Aria smile ever so slightly. She did seem to enjoy my show of brazenness._

"_Do you know why you're dead?"_

_She pressed down on my cheek briefly before releasing me, striding further into the alley and away from the curious eyes of passers-by. I sat up and wiped my face off on my sleeve, scrubbing the grime from my cheek as I watched her study me. She seemed to be waiting for my answer whilst formulating a response of her own. I paused in thought and replayed the past few minutes in my mind. I found no errors in my judgment, no fault in my logic, and once more met her eyes._

"_No." I stated curtly. "But I assume you're going to tell me?"_

_Another crooked smile lit her face with only a hint of annoyance. Aria preferred both her underlings and enemies to be intelligent - she quite enjoyed a challenge - and I was smart enough to know she would tolerate only so much belligerence before she sickened of it. She did, however, enjoy teaching her lessons and delivered them with such ruthless efficiency as to be considered punishment by those lucky enough to receive it. It was a dichotomy I had grown rather fond of – her attention and her authoritarian delivery. I considered myself lucky, as the unlucky had a tendency to end up dead._

_She paced, sleek as a cat in a cage. "They saw you coming, had you targeted the moment you entered the marketplace. You really don't know why?"_

_I shook my head again and looked at her expectantly._

"_You've become too practiced, Jin. Turian guards that well armed and armored expect to garner attention – they expect to earn looks of curiosity, to be stared at openly." She gestured widely around her, cutting a swath through the air with a graceful palm. "They are on display, for shock and awe. Someone like you – a simple girl who doesn't act afraid, doesn't act curious – doesn't fit in with the unwashed masses surrounding them."_

_I dropped my eyes from hers as the realization sunk in. Aria was correct in her assessment, unsurprisingly. I had not thought to study the reactions of the crowd, merely the flow of traffic and the shadows they created in their wake. I had failed in my mission, and in doing so, failed Aria._

_She crouched down next to me, her sweet scent filling the space between us. I could feel her hot gaze upon me and I had to force myself to meet her eyes. She studied me again and I could have easily withered under her scrutiny were it not for a shameless sense of impudence. I recognized a flicker of amusement before she suddenly stood, disappearing down the alley as quickly as she had arrived._

_I sighed in resignation. I still had so much to learn._

"Are you alive over there? Jin?"

The stale scent of piss and shit struck me with as much potency as it had the last time I woke up in the container, and I rolled over carefully on my stack of crates toward Vale, a slightly irritated scowl on his face. Having no words for him and not wanting to waste my energy on formulating a coherent response, I grumbled something unintelligible and showed him my back. It was a mistake.

I let out a howl of annoyance as a wet metal container bounced off my back and splattered its contents across my jacket. I sprang into a defensive crouch, knife in hand and fury on my face. As was his nature, Vale burst out in an annoyingly inappropriate cackle at my discomfiture. I was fast growing tired of his juvenile antics.

"Funny." I sneered, ignoring the temptation to lodge my knife in his neck. It wasn't properly balanced for throwing and I was not skilled enough to attempt the feat. I would miss and Vale would be in no mood to return my prized possession.

"So you're alive after all?" He shifted on his stack of canned goods across from me and propped his legs up on another stack. "I was beginning to wonder."

I _harrumphed_ a response while attempting to wipe the liquid from my clothes. It was sweet and sticky and smelled rather familiar. "What is this," I asked turning the dripping can in my hands. "Fruit cocktail? They still make this stuff?"

Vale nodded as he opened up another can, the loud pop echoing in the enclosed confines of our shipping container. "Indeed they do – found a whole box of the stuff over yonder."

"I see you've wasted no time indulging in your new find."

Vale nodded as he finished off another can, this time tossing it to the side of our tiny makeshift encampment. "I use what's handy to get by."

"So I've noticed," I grumbled thoughtlessly. I gave up on my attempts to clean my jacket and took it off instead. The sticky fruit juice would remain so, but I'd no intent to wear it. It wasn't until I returned to a more relaxing pose that I realized Vale had fallen silent.

He wore a slight frown on his face, which looked to be more thoughtful than usual. "Is that all you think of me?"

I responded without thought, well versed in the usual tone of our banter. "I think many things of you."

I put my knife to use cleaning the grime from beneath my fingernails, but from Vale there was only more silence.

I awaited his response, but when none came I looked back up to meet green eyes filled with an emotion I could not quite place. "What?"

His frown deepened ever so slightly, brows furrowing. "I told you once, Jin, that you know nothing. Despite what you may think, I don't always like being right."

I schooled my expression to neutrality, easily done as I was not exactly sure what I should have felt in that moment. Confusion was familiar enough, but I had learned long ago to hide that particular emotion and was well practiced in it. Anger, frustration - common enough, and even more so since my escapist adventures with Vale, but neither feeling felt correct. Pity had no home in my heart, fear even less. And so I was at a loss and allowed my training to guide me.

I set down my knife and gave him my full attention, voiced lowered, sure. Inviting. "What is it that you want me to say, Vale?"

He shook his head and turned away from me, propping his feet up once more, his gaze suddenly finding the far wall incredibly interesting. "Don't do that, Jin. Not with me."

My frowned echoed his earlier one. "Don't do what?"

"Don't play with me. I'm not some client – some target of yours that you can manipulate. That's not who you are."

I snorted. "And you know me so well."

"I didn't get this far by working off a whim." He crossed his legs, but kept his eyes on the wall.

"Is that so?" I studied him, awaiting his response. To the casual observer his pose spoke of relaxed ease, but to me it screamed tension. Vale was hiding something, something he desperately wanted to share. My blood pumped wildly as I realized that this was likely knowledge I had been working toward. I needed to get him to reveal his secrets.

"Yes, that's so."

"Really." I played along, a hint of defiant disbelief in my tone and laced with genuine curiosity. "So did you hack into my files or were they provided to you?"

He waved a dismissive hand and leaned his head back against the stack of boxes behind him. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it, Jin. That's old news."

"Fine." I shrugged nonchalantly and went back to cleaning my nails. I could play this game. "You can pretend all you like, Vale, but I think you're even more transparent than I am."

He mumbled something I couldn't quite catch and closed his eyes as if to nap. I continued cleaning my nails, letting the silence stretch between us. I would not be the first one to break. I'd had more than enough experience learning patience, enough training and practice to recognize the needs of men. Vale would come around soon enough. All I had to do was wait.

He held out longer than I expected and, oddly enough, I was pleasantly surprised. More than two hours of uninterrupted quiet went by before he spoke up. I recognized his poor attempt at feigning sleep. He did not snore and his posture was stiff and still screamed of tension.

"There were no files on you, Jin. You were a ghost." His voice was so quiet and the break in silence so sudden that I almost didn't hear him.

I shifted, turning toward him once more in an obvious display of my attention. I said nothing, choosing instead to wait patiently for him to continue as I knew he would.

"I watched you, studied you long before you ever knew I was there." He opened his eyes and his green gaze seemed to flicker with memory. "I had thought you were nothing more than just a bartender at first, and I resented you. I resented that I'd been sent to stalk a bartender."

I cocked an eyebrow at his wording, but held my tongue. Vale's words felt like more of a confession. I had not expected this.

"I ordered a drink once, when you were working the main bar." He crossed his legs again, frowning once more in thought. "You smiled as you poured my drink, but I remember thinking that it didn't seem to fit. It felt forced to me. And so I followed you when you left that night, and many nights after. You always took a different route."

Those days seemed so long ago, but yet the alleyways of Omega still were crystal clear in my memory. I could still taste the stale air, feel the rumble of the industrial complexes beneath my feet, hear the vendors hawking their shady wares. I ignored the irrational longing building within and focused on his words. I was sure he had something important to say.

"I never did learn where you lived." A half-smile creased his lips. "I realized one night when you bought a basket of those salarian noodles – the same dish you bought for me – that you were nothing I had expected." He eyes met mine and his smile disappeared. "I realized you weren't scared."

I huffed in annoyance and turned away from him. "I wasn't scared? That's your big revelation?"

"You'd be smart to be – especially on Omega." His eyes didn't leave me and I could almost feel the power of his gaze. It was uncomfortable. "That's the night I knew you were something more than just a bartender. That's when I knew I was right to take the assignment."

My head whipped around in furious surprise. "Right to take _which_ assignment?"

Vale opened his mouth to speak, but the container's sudden lurch stopped him. I struggled to maintain my balance on the stack of crates as the container shifted around us, the roar of the atmospheric pressure filling the sudden silence of the hold. We had arrived at our destination and I silently cursed the freighter for its horrible timing.

Vale recognized my frustration and smiled even as he fought to maintain his own balance. "Another time, Jin. Another time."

* * *

Broken Heart - Ludovico Einaudi


	36. Chapter 36

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

Chapter 36

"Really? Sigurd's Cradle? Watson?" I shifted my weight, searching the perimeter of the docking bay while Vale hacked into the systems. "How boring."

He grunted in response, but continued his work. "You would prefer something else?"

I sighed and leaned against the terminal, my eyes still on the horizon. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe a place with a view, hotels that don't explode, or something with some entertainment?"

Vale erased his presence in the security system and switched off the terminal, turning his attention toward me. "Well, there is an Alliance presence in this system. That might provide you with a nice diversion - something new to shoot at."

I sighed again and rolled my eyes before meeting his gaze. He cocked an impatient eyebrow and gestured to his right. "Shall we, my dear? I daresay our intrusion in this dainty bay will be noticed soon enough."

"Charming." I quipped sarcastically.

His familiar smirk returned as I followed him from the docking bay. "I can be when I want."

I grumbled noncommittally.

"It's a talent."

"It needs work."

He glanced back at me, slowing his pace as we trudged up a rather steep hill. "Then I guess I'll just have to practice."

I wasn't quite sure how to feel now that the content of our banter was once more familiar, and for all intents and purposes, light-hearted. I was confused by his earlier confession and annoyed that I'd not gleaned more information from him. That he had been watching me longer than I suspected was surprising. However, that I'd not noticed his presence before my transfer to the VIP lounge irritated me to know end. I'd always known there was more to Vale then he let on, but his ability to remain hidden from me on my own turf was disconcerting. He was more skilled than I had thought him to be and I couldn't help but wonder what other talents I had yet to discover.

I met his gaze with a hint of challenge in my own. "I guess you will at that." I recognized a flicker of surprise on his face before he loosed a soft chuckle. He opened his mouth to speak, but as we crested the hill I interrupted him, pointing down the line of the road to a nearby inn. "Not as nice as Nos Astra, but I bet it won't spontaneously combust."

"You sound disappointed."

I shrugged. "Maybe a little."

"Then I shall do my best to keep you entertained."

I recognized another flicker of amusement, and something else, and a distinct feeling of nervous discomfort swirled in my gut. That familiar smirk, coupled with his last statement, was unexpected and set me instantly on edge. I needed an out and quickly, and so increased my pace, stomping ungracefully down the rest of the hill and toward the rustic inn. I could only imagine the look on Vale's face, but I dared not look back to sate my curiosity. I'd shed enough dignity today.

"I'd like a room." I announced as I entered the small foyer, my voice carrying over the empty air to the lone man standing behind a dusty counter. He shot me look of confusion, as if the mere presence of customers was anything other than a regular occurrence.

"Of course." He looked momentarily confused as he paused in his duties, my arrival interrupting whatever menial task he was engaged in. "One moment."

I leaned on the counter and surveyed the area, an odd musty scent filling my nostrils. I sniffed with displeasure and stiffened as I heard the door open behind me. Vale's footsteps were quiet on the ratted carpet, and he stopped a respectable distance from me.

"Everything under control here?" He asked.

I wondered at his sincere tone and decided to take it at face value. "Yes."

"Good." I heard him shift, the scent of him drifting with the dust on the air. "I found a bar a few doors down. I'll be there if you need me."

I refrained from speaking the sharp retort on my tongue, choosing silence. A foreign sense of disappointment flitted through my system, but I squelched it before the feeling could ignite an inferno of unwelcome emotion. Instead I focused on the man behind the counter, studied him as he rifled through the keycards even as Vale quietly exited the inn. The door swung shut with a dull thud and I didn't even realized how tense I was until he was gone.

"Miss?" The lone man extended an arm draped in faded plaid, a battered keycard in his hand. "Your room's on the second floor – far end."

I took the card from his hand and nodded in acknowledgement.

"Got your own terminal. Just access the menu you need somethin'."

"Thank you." I shot him a half-hearted smile and made my way up the narrow staircase. While I was confident this hotel wasn't a target for any sort of organized crime, I couldn't help but wonder just what this small town had in store for me. And just what the hell I was doing here.

o O o O o O o

I felt more myself after a shower and even felt a twinge of longing for my apartment as I banged my elbows on the walls of the small shower stall. It was indeed strange the little things I missed from home: the soft comfort of my chair's cushions, the sharp scent of chemicals in my kitchen, even the groan of the CO2 scrubbers that hung from my back wall. Mostly, though, I missed having a space of my own and the accompanying constancy. I liked that I had my own space, personal possessions not bought or given, but earned. The thought that I might have nothing to return to was disturbing, yet always it lingered in the depths of my mind.

I tossed my towel aside and dressed, pulling on my dirty garments and plopping down on the worn bed. Again I wondered just what the hell I was doing in this town. During a brief scout of the area I had spied nothing of note aside from the bar Vale mentioned and the local security office. The main street was lined with small shops, mostly hardware and tech, and felt more like a way station than a blossoming metropolis. It was wrapped in dust and age, the local businesses supporting the dockhands and servicemen of the area. It was a small community – smaller than what I was used to on Omega anyway.

I imagine we could be safe here for a time, Vale and I, as it was unlikely anyone would search us out in such a backwater locale. I could only imagine Aria's reaction if such a thing were to occur. She would deny any knowledge of my existence, so great would be the embarrassment. And I wouldn't fault her for it. I would do the same in her position.

But I wouldn't be caught – not here. Not now. And certainly not in this shitty motel.

The door chimed, a discordant note that stung my ears, and Vale slipped inside in time to interrupt my musings. He tossed his keycard on top of one of the battered end tables and plopped down on the bed beside me. I raised my eyebrows in an unspoken question.

"Comfy." He bounced slightly on the bed before meeting my gaze. "The bar was boring so I came back to check on our arrangements."

"And?"

He shrugged awkwardly on the bed, turning on to his side to better meet my gaze. "Seems you have everything under control here." He bounced again and the familiar smirk returned. "One room, Jin? And a single bed? Is there something I should know?"

"Hardly," I snorted. "This was all I could afford. It seems the rest of our credits exploded."

"If I'd have known what she was planning – "

"That's not the point, Vale." I interrupted, my tone more plaintive than intended. "You were too busy fawning over her to notice – to think she might just not be the helping hand you were so desperate for."

I recognized the flash of guilt that replaced his smirk and he dropped his eyes from mine. "You didn't suspect either, Jin. The blame is not entirely mine."

I threw my hands up and let them drop back down to the bed in exasperation. "I dealt with the person responsible, remember?"

"Yes." His voice was soft, yet sharp, and carried with it a hint of something unfamiliar. "I remember."

"You say that like she was important to you."

He snorted and rolled onto his back, his eyes on the dingy ceiling above us. "Once maybe, but not for a long time."

I bit my tongue and frowned. His tone sounded achingly familiar and an echo of memory fought to surface.

_Sensual curves dancing upon false flames, limbs entwined with shadow and light, and eyes only for me._

I pushed the memory away, focusing once more on Vale, waiting for him to speak. He remained silent for a time, his breath deep and steady, but as before his pose cried out in tension.

"We met by accident when I was on mission in Nos Astra." He paused in thought, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I saw her across the way and had to meet her. She was so intoxicating back then, back before everything got complicated."

"What happened?"

"Nothing that doesn't happen to anyone else." He shrugged awkwardly against the bedcovers. "There's no huge mystery, no dramatic climax – it simply didn't work."

"But you remained lovers." I was genuinely curious and my need to know drove me.

"For a time." He turned his head and met my gaze again. "No doubt you noticed how intoxicating she still was."

I frowned and grumbled, unwilling to cede the point.

He chuckled softly in response. "No doubt, but I never thought she'd try to kill me – not for money anyway."

"And you say _I_ know nothing," I barked harshly.

"Oh?" Vale cocked an inquisitive eyebrow and I found myself at the mercy of memory.

_I arrived at the coordinates Aria had given me and secured my position, snug in a rusted out ventilation shaft overlooking the empty cargo bay. I would have a bird's eye view of the proceedings and multiple exits with which to escape if need be. However, with the intelligence provided, exits would not be needed if the job was done properly._

_And I was getting very good at my job._

_I checked my ammo count and calibrated the settings on my rifle. I propped it against the shaft, testing the weight and adjusting my sights. Satisfied that all was in order, I switched off my omni-tool and prepared to wait._

_It was not long before I heard the rhythmic banging of booted footsteps against the grating of the bay floor. I readied my rifle as the cargo bay door hissed open, filling the once empty space with the sound of nervous activity. I watched as Eclipse mercenaries filed in, taking up strategic positions as the one I assumed was their commander walked brazenly forward. There was something familiar in that gait, but before I could take the time to inspect further, the opposite door opened with an equally loud hiss._

_Three individuals dressed in dark, unmarked garb filed in. While none appeared to bear arms, the trio exuded an aura of danger. I couldn't help but wonder if Aria's intelligence was correct. These three seemed to be more than just mercenaries. Something was off._

_I shook off my feeling of discomfort and sighted through my scope, slowly adjusting the settings for maximum effect. I zeroed in on my target, precious moments ticking by as the Eclipse commander appeared to argue with the dark garbed lead. Sweat trickled down my brow, vermin crawled down my back, but still I did not move. I maintained my vigil, the thrill of exertion seeping into my bones until at last it seemed the meeting was concluded. _

_I pulled the trigger and watched the expected reaction flood the cargo bay._

_Chaos broke loose as the dark garbed man fell to the floor. Eclipse mercs fanned out, flanking the other two dark individuals, but none got close. Biotics lit the cargo bay in a spectacular display, warping time and space and infrastructure in an awesome show of power. I watched in morbid fascination as Eclipse was torn apart by the ferocity of the attacks, their commander barely managing to escape the unexpected assault and diving behind a lone shipping container._

_Gunfire erupted amidst the swirl of light, mass effect rounds aimed with little thought and ricocheting off walls. I felt the urge to duck more than once, but snug in my vent I remained safe. Those on the floor below, however, were not. I sighted down my scope once more and hunted for targets. I need not look hard, but only for the breath of calm within the storm._

_The young woman garbed in dark clothing was next and I recognized a shift in the display of power as she fell lifeless to the floor. The lone dark individual on the empty cargo bay floor howled in rage and renewed his biotic assault, the force of his anger warping the sturdy structure of the shipping container. I watched once again in fascination as the commander, the last of the Eclipse mercs, stepped out from behind the damaged behemoth and launched her own biotic assault. The bay erupted in brilliant light, blinding me even as the shockwaves from their power sent tremors throughout the room. _

_My teeth rattled and my head hurt. I fought to focus and adjust my gaze, recognizing the destruction that lay beneath me. The once empty, bland cargo bay now smoldered in ruin, the twisted wreckage of the shipping container tossed aside like so much garbage, the metal grating of the flooring curling upwards and red hot. I sighted through my scope one last time, searching for any trace of life down below, and went cold at what I found._

_Without hesitation, with no thought for myself I returned my rifle to the casing on my back and slipped out of the vent, making my way to the remnants of the floor below. I knew – even before I ever got to her, I knew. Uta lay broken and bloodied, her body contorted around the smoking remains of metal grating, shards of metal piercing her creamy skin, marring its perfection. I could have wept in that moment, save for Aria's sudden presence._

_She knew. And she had sent me on this job. _

_No tears welled up, no regrets, but anger; clean and fierce and bright. I threw myself at her then, thoughtless and willful and she swatted me away as one would the vermin in the vents._

"_Really, Jin. I'm surprised you didn't figure it out on your own."_

_She held me pinned to the wall with little to no effort at all even as I struggled to breath under her assault._

"_Do you think me so heartless as to not look out for my talented employees?" She shook her head in mock displeasure, but I recognized the flicker of amusement in her eyes._

_I met her gaze with defiance in my own. "You knew," I hissed._

_She nodded. "And you didn't."_

_I fell to the floor roughly as she released me, sputtering pathetically even as the anger still simmered beneath my skin. Aria had used this as a lesson, to make a point, and she expected me to always heed her lessons. And so in that moment, in my last glance at Uta's broken body, I vowed never again would I lose myself in passion. Never again would I be used. Never again would I be a victim._

"Jin?" Vale asked, and I was suddenly aware that he was staring at me, a plain look of concern creasing his brow.

"I know what it's like."

"Do you now?" His tone was once more dismissive, smug.

"I knew someone once – someone very dear to me – who planned to sell me out for money."

"Oh?"

I ignored his renewed curiosity and continued on. "She was an Eclipse commander, but I was too blind to recognize it."

"And Aria wasn't?"

"Yes." I said softly, willing the memory away. "Aria saved me that pain."

He huffed and turned his head away from me, matching my pose as we both stared at the ceiling. "There is no safety from that pain."

"No. There's not."

* * *

Hardly Wait - Juliette Lewis

Big Bar Fight - Serenity Soundtrack


	37. Chapter 37

Disclaimer: Bioware owns almost all.

A/N: Many apologies for my late post. RL has been crazier than usual, so a big thank you to everyone who is still willing to stick with this fic. Your attention and dedication is very much appreciated.

Chapter 37

"It's not an interesting story, really. They vented the hold to prevent those damn pyjaks from getting into the rest of the ship, and our gear just happened to be stowed in the same place." Vale shrugged nonchalantly as he eyed the clerk behind the counter. "I'm sure they'd already nested in our clothes, so either way we're in need of new threads."

I did little to hide my humor, shaking my head at Vale's stilted flirtations. The girl was clearly not into him, and despite her polite disposition, I could tell his continued attempts were wearing on her nerves. She stood with her arms crossed, leaning away from him and maintaining her distance behind a glass counter. I watched as she smiled and nodded at the appropriate times, studying her mannerisms as I perused the wares in her store. I had come to believe she was not necessarily immune to men's charms, but to the charms of men like Vale. In fact, I was sure she saw his ilk waft in and out of the small port town on a regular basis and tired of the same, feigned pleasantries they tried to ply her with. I respected her all the more for it.

"So my sister and I –" Vale gestured my way in a thinly veiled attempt at announcing his availability. "We heard about this store from Gage at the hotel – he said your product is solid and prices are negotiable –"

She held up a hand at the last, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Negotiable?" She cocked a disdainful eyebrow at Vale and I felt my admiration for her grow exponentially.

"Yeah," his voice faltered slightly. It seemed he was not accustomed to having his charms so thoroughly denied.

As much as I was enjoying myself at Vale's expense, I could stand it no longer. The possibility that we'd be tossed from the store was growing greater by the moment and I was tired of donning dirty garb day after day. No matter how I scrubbed in the shower, my tunic still reeked of stale piss and shit from that damnable crate and was growing ever more unpleasant.

"I believe what my _brother_ was trying to say is that we're interested in what you have to offer." I plastered a most innocent smile upon my face as I joined Vale at the counter. "Gage told us of a number of different stores around town, but that yours was his favorite - said he buys his wife's church dresses from you and that your alterations fit her like a glove." I bit my lips as if embarrassed and tried to blush. "He was rather enthusiastic with his descriptions of her figure…"

I was rewarded a shy smile and knowing nod. "Yes, that sounds like Gage."

I watched as she uncrossed her arms and shifted her weight slightly to face me. Granted, the heat from Vale's irritation was only in my imagination, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.

"I trust he's treated you well during your stay? We don't get many long-term visitors here."

"Oh yes. He's been very helpful and even offered us laundry service, but –" I gestured to my soiled garb. "I would rather have a set of spare clothes so as not to rush him. I doubt he'd look too kindly on my running around his establishment naked as the day I was born."

The girl giggled sweetly and shook her head. "Oh, I bet he'd enjoy that very much!"

I mirrored her smile and pose. Leaning slightly on the counter I turned my attention to Vale. "Brother, you haven't looked around the store yet. I saw a few things over there that you might like."

He shot me an irritated glance, but my smile remained perfectly sweet, savoring his annoyance as if it were a decadent dessert. He grumbled something unintelligible as he walked off, abandoning our company for less hostile environs. I couldn't help but think the durable trousers along the far wall were far better company than I was in that moment.

"So Gage told me that you make all these clothes yourself, Bunny is it?"

Blonde curls bobbed as she nodded again. "The clothing – yes. I worked out a deal with one of the local farmers who breed livestock up north of here."

I watched her face light up as she talked of her trade, speaking of shearing, weaving, and finishing textiles and transforming her rough work into functional wear. She smiled brightly as she spoke of the quality of her fabrics as opposed to "those other stores" that imported their wares. I held her gaze as she spoke, nodding at the appropriate times, mimicking her smile and leaning in to carefully brush a stray lock of hair from her face. She paused in her monologue then and blushed sweetly.

"I'm sorry." She said sincerely. "I must be boring you."

Once again I mimicked her smile. "Not at all." I answered truthfully. "It is always interesting to watch others speak of their passions."

She flushed deeper and my smile widened at the thought of Vale watching my successful flirtation, although a part of me was rather disappointed in his failure. I pushed the errant emotion aside and focused on the task at hand.

"It seems you've done quite well for yourself."

"I suppose I have." Bunny shifted again, suddenly shy. "Did you see anything you liked?"

"I did." I smiled brilliantly and watched her reaction. While it seemed she was accustomed to the falsities of men, she was unused to the attention of women. I almost felt guilty at the ease with which I manipulated her.

I allowed her to show me around the store, listened to her describe the differing fabrics and fashions, all the while hanging on her words and complimenting her tastes. She piled a variety of clothing into my arms and showed me the dressing rooms, lingering in the waiting area while I tried on her choices. By the glow of her face, she was not disappointed when I modeled her wares for her.

By the look on Vale's face, neither was he.

I paused as I noticed his reflection in the mirror only to watch him resume browsing, his momentary lapse in indifference interrupted by Bunny's exuberance. She bounded up next to me, busying herself with the fit of the cloth and adjusting where necessary. I endured it with what grace I could muster, indulging the young woman in the hopes that it would earn some sort of discount.

"It's not a perfect fit," Bunny finally admitted as she frowned and bit her lip in thought. "But for everyday wear it should suit just fine."

I nodded and smiled, more than satisfied with the scent of clean linens and comfortable fit. A fine pair of pants and simple top would indeed suit me just fine. I had little need for anything more. I had never found the need for extravagance, preferring practicality instead.

"Oh, but wait!" Bunny crooned in delight and bounded off toward the front windows. I watched as she pulled a dress from the model in the window, cringing inwardly and wondering what possible new torment I now faced.

"Here." Upon her return to my side she shoved a green dress into my hands, an excited smile lighting her face. "Try it on!"

A dress? I was hardly one to indulge in such idle fancies, preferring only to wear a dress when seduction called for it. Dresses were hardly practical, and while a few were perfect for concealing a side arm, they were usually paired with strappy sandals and impossible to run in. No, dresses such as the one now hanging from my arm, the delicate fabric soft against my skin – these were for women with idleness and credit to spare. I almost balked at the notion save for the eager anticipation on Bunny's face. Reluctantly, I forced a smile and did as she asked.

As it was with her other choices, Bunny's dress fit almost perfectly. I opened the door to my dressing room and watched as another smile lit her fair complexion. She clearly delighted in her work, and in seeing that work displayed on others, and I couldn't help but reflect her genuine enthusiasm. I couldn't remember the last time I had met an individual so very _real_.

"Marvelous!" She clasped her hands together in satisfaction as her eyes roamed over my figure, studying the fit and form of the garment so incredibly foreign to me. I waited patiently while she poked and prodded me, stifling an indignant grunt at one point when her fingers pushed a sensitive spot just below my ribs. She mumbled an apology, but proceeded apace. For my part, I endured her attentions and ignored the memories from another life, images of extravagance and dresses best left forgotten.

Bunny huffed and cocked her head from side to side, finally nodding in acceptance. I took that as a cue and stepped in front of the mirror, surprised at my own image. I didn't understand what Bunny was concerned about. The dress fit perfectly - better than I could have imagined - and I marveled at the curves I had never before associated with my body. I glanced down, shocked, and couldn't help but wonder where my cleavage had suddenly appeared from. Clearly, Bunny was an ingenious engineer.

An inarticulate choke sounded to my right and I turned to see Vale leaning casually against the wall, a bundle of clothes in his hands and a lecherous smirk upon his face. I shot him a venomous scowl, cut short as Bunny adjusted the dress' fit yet again.

"Excuse me ladies," he drawled. "Mind if I try these on?"

Bunny looked him over briefly before nodding. "There's another dressing room on the right."

He looked momentarily perplexed by her dismissal, and then brushed past us to his destination. I couldn't help but enjoy Bunny's no-nonsense disposition and took a moment to relish her indifference toward him. This was an experience I would not soon let him forget.

"There," she said satisfactorily.

I shifted slightly in the dress, wrapped in clean scent, and enjoying the feel of the soft fabric upon my skin. I breathed deeply, savoring the moment for I knew I couldn't afford such finery. I had not the means to purchase the dress, and practical as I was, no need.

I met Bunny's excited eyes with a hint of genuine regret in my own. "It's lovely, but when my brother said we lost all our belongings, that included the majority of our credits too." I watched her smile droop slightly. "I'm sorry, but I just can't afford it."

Bunny sighed reluctantly, the fabric of her dress straining momentarily against her chest. I averted my eyes, glancing back into the mirror and to the stranger that now stood before me. I watched the emotions flash over Bunny's face as she frowned in thought yet again.

"You and your brother booked passage on that freighter with your tech skills, right?"

"Yes." I kept my expression neutral, suspicion creeping into my veins.

She nodded again, that short, succinct movement that entailed decisiveness. "Then that's how you can repay me for the clothes, but for the dress – "

I held up my hands, mouth open to protest, but she shushed me with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"You wear that dress out and you tell anyone who asks just where you got it from." She nodded again. "You'll be my walking advertisement."

I knew she recognized the surprised confusion on my face as I did nothing to hide it. This was the last thing I had expected. I had been prepared to flirt more, charm to woman into discounting her wares to the point of sheer robbery. Bartering services hadn't even entered the equation. Inwardly I berated my tunnel vision while simultaneously applauding her shrewd business sense. However, I had yet to hear the entire deal.

"I'm to be your advertisement?"

Again Bunny nodded.

"Very well." I cocked my head as if in thought. "And just what sort of tech services are you in need of?"

The now familiar smile lit her face again. "Why creating my extranet store, of course!"

O o O o O o O

The meat was fresh, piping hot and cooked to what I could only assume was local perfection. I stared at it and the vegetable sides, trying to decide what exactly it was that Vale had ordered for me. He spared me a glance, pausing only briefly as he ravaged his own meal, the look on his face a mix of humor and impatience.

"It's the local beef. Eat it."

I poked at the vegetables with my fork, ignoring the sidelong glances of our server. "The local version of broccoli?"

Vale snorted disdainfully. "You grew up eating food on Omega – synthesized proteins and salarian noodles? I really don't think you're in any position to judge."

He had a point, but I frowned and dug into my meal with reservation, unwilling to enjoy it just to spite him. Of course upon first bite, I resolved not to inform him of how correct he truly was. I still had some semblance of pride no matter how malformed.

We ate our meal in silence, exhausted from Bunny's energy and demands. While we were both familiar with various facets of technology, neither one of us knew anything about designing extranet sites and stores. Instead, after much frustrated cursing on my part, Bunny gave in and allowed us to exercise our actual talents with regard to security. Apparently, she had experienced several breaches in her system and had been receiving orders for interactive pornography instead of clothing. The inventiveness of hackers never failed to amaze me.

What surprised me, however, was her trust in us, a result I could only imagine that came from small town living. She gave us access to her security net and accounts – a free pass to her profits if we so desired.

I set down my fork and stared at Vale contemplatively. "You're siphoning off her account, aren't you?"

He shrugged nonchalantly and stuffed another piece of beef in his mouth. "Aren't you?"

I ignored his question and continued eating. Of course I was. I didn't ever want to be in the same situation I now found myself – broke and stuck in some backwater town with nothing but stench-ridden clothes and a lout to keep me company. Granted I was only sifting a tenth of a percent off the top, nothing that would draw attention, and I could halt the program at any time. It's not like I was really stealing that much.

"She charges too much for her clothes." Vale announced suddenly. "She can afford to pay us for our services."

I looked down at the matching bags of clothing resting at our feet and the green dress I now wore. "She already paid us."

Vale shrugged again and downed the rest of his water, the cloudy glass slick with condensation. "Yeah, you sure seemed to be enjoying yourself."

A surge of irritation cascaded through me and my retort was out of my mouth before I could stop it. "And you were doing so well, weren't you. Casanova, is it?"

He shot me a withering look. "Well we can't all develop spontaneous cleavage, now can we."

I smiled sweetly at him, willing my building irritation to subside. "Only us lucky few."

He opened his mouth to comment, but snapped it shut instead, nothing of worth to say. Any comeback from him would've been for naught as the restaurant's door swung open in that same moment and a trio of Alliance officers made for the bar. I watched them from the corner of my eye, studying their movements and mannerisms, noting how Vale was doing the same. We kept our heads down, attempting to remain inconspicuous, and went back to dining with the pretense of easy company.

Our peace lasted only a short while before we noticed the wandering eyes of the officers. I met Vale's gaze, but we said nothing, and I willed away their attention only to have my meager hopes dashed. One of the officers slapped another on the back and before Vale could stuff another bite of beef in his mouth, the officer was at our table.

"Greetings," he saluted smartly and Vale and I exchanged blank looks.

I smiled and said hello, returning his greeting with a less formal one of my own. Vale simply nodded and continued eating.

"You must be new in town," he continued, throwing a sidelong glance at Vale while the other two officers shared a laugh in the background.

I smiled again and nodded. "Yes, my brother and I have only just arrived this week."

I watched as his countenance brightened. "Brother?"

"Half-brother." Vale added helpfully between bites.

I smiled nervously, uncomfortable with Vale's tone and the officer's interest. On Omega I would have been perfectly comfortable dealing with the military, but in my current situation I did not find it wise to attract the attention of authority. Formal brands of authority and I rarely got along unless bribes were involved.

The officer scratched the back of his neck and appeared to be searching for words. "That's a nice dress you're wearing."

"Thank you. Bunny made it." I spared a quick glance at Vale who shot me a curious look, and I had a sudden sneaking suspicion that his perception of my intelligence had just taken a nosedive.

The officer nodded and smiled again, his gaze drifting briefly down to the low neckline of my dress. "I was wondering if you would join me for a drink –" He gestured to the dinner on our table, "- after you're done eating of course. I don't want to interrupt."

I glanced shyly back up at him, biting my lip before smiling and looking away bashfully. "I would love to, but it has been a long day and I have to get up early in tomorrow morning. Thank you for the invitation, though. Perhaps another time?"

The officer scratched the back of his neck again and nodded. "Another time, then."

I watched him return to his fellows at the bar and the testosterone fueled ruckus that followed. They slapped him on the back again and he brushed off their jibes with what appeared to be good humor. Vale caught my eye and cocked his head, a question plastered once more upon his face.

"Flirting with Alliance servicemen now?" Sarcasm all but dripped from his lips. "You're hitting all the angles today, aren't you?"

I shrugged, conscious of the fit of my dress and quick shift in his gaze. "I'd say I'm two for two, which is better than you by far."

Vale let slip a frustrated snort and we finished the rest of our meal in silence. I had come to take a sick pleasure in his discomfort and enjoyed my dinner all the moreso coupled with his ire.

It wasn't until after we left the restaurant that Vale spoke again, gesturing to the security office nearby. I shook my head in disagreement, but he persisted. I had no intention of entering the local office, my aversion only natural given my occupation. However, Vale disregarded my stubbornness and continued inside, disappearing behind the double doors of law enforcement. After a lengthy mental argument, and against my better judgment, I followed.

I had been left holding our bags of clothing and I shifted them awkwardly as I entered the cramped lobby, doors slamming shut behind me. Both Vale and female officer he was chatting up turned and stared at me with varying degrees of irritation. I hefted our bags and blurted out a greeting, thick with false cheer.

Vale waved, shooting me a warning glance, while the officer all but ignored me. She wasn't an unattractive woman, appeared capable and competent, and comfortable with the attentions of men. And right now she was making herself very comfortable with Vale's attentions. I didn't believe him to be genuinely attracted to her as she was dressed in a drab jumpsuit, combat boots, and had an ass tighter than the severe bun atop her head. However, as I listened to their conversation I pushed aside my ire and focused on the topic. Vale was gathering information about the town and attempting to get a tour of the building. Although by the look on her face, I doubted she would acquiesce.

"I'm the only one here and I can't leave my post. Not until I'm relieved. Sorry." I heard her say. Vale mumbled something in her ear and I watched with building nausea as she giggled. He leaned in closer, waving me over toward the office door behind the counter while he held her attention. I set our clothes down quietly, cringing inwardly at the occasional noisy crinkle of the bags.

Relieved of my burden for the moment I slipped quietly behind the counter and toward the office door, switching on my omni-tool and scanning the security lock. It was standard colonial security – similar to the tech used by many of Omega's traders – and nothing I wasn't already familiar with. The bypass went smoothly and the door opened with barely more than a whisper. I slipped inside, my presence all but forgotten by the besotted officer. I _knew_ Vale could be charming when he so chose.

The small office was dominated by a large desk, the surface littered with datapads and a seemingly random collection of family photoscreens. I ignored the shifting images in favor of the desk's terminal, and once again bypassing the security, switched it on and accessed security feeds. I saw little of note – the standard security reports, Alliance patrol routes, notices of corporate deadlines and institution of a newly approved uniform code. I downloaded any information I thought would be useful, such as colony schematics, local star charts, even a listing of security personnel. Racing against time I prepared to log off, but paused as I recognized a familiar face. There, plastered across the SecureNet was Vale's picture accompanied by a handsome reward.

Treia had not been lying. Vale's bounty was very real indeed, and as I refined my search, I found another bounty as well – this one with a rough sketch of my likeness. My breath caught and a wave of nausea overtook me. I fought for control amidst a brewing storm of frustration and anger. For years I had carefully hidden my identity only to have my anonymity evaporate before my eyes.

Struggling to control maelstrom of emotion threatening to overwhelm me, I saved a copy of the bounties and erased evidence of my presence in the network. Without a sound I opened the door and reset security, slipping into the lobby while Vale continued to keep the security officer engaged. However, recognizing that he was growing tired of the game, I heaved an exaggerated sigh and grabbed our clothes, the bags crinkling loudly.

"Brother _dear_, are you done yet?" I had no need to feign the irritation in my voice, although it was hardly an outlet for the rising tide of fury in my blood.

He shot me an irate scowl, but it seemed more for the officer's benefit that a reflection of his mood. "No need to be rude."

The officer shot me her own less than friendly look, but I met her eyes with disdainful reproach and repeated my question to Vale with even greater impatience. An apology dripped from his lips and my already poor opinion of the officer dropped even lower as she appeared to fall over herself at his attentions. Vale brushed his lips against her cheek, whispered something in her ear, and then much to my satisfaction we were out the door.

I kept a brisk pace as I hurried down the road, bags of clothing jostling roughly in my arms. I couldn't get away from the security office fast enough for my liking, my frustration growing exponentially as I tried to formulate some sort of plan for transit off-world. We couldn't stay here, not with such a large Alliance presence in system. Bounties and law never mixed well.

"What's the hurry?" Vale asked, lengthening his stride to keep up without appearing too rushed.

I glanced over at him, but in that moment was unable to form words. Anger and frustration enveloped me and my only reaction was to increase the pace, the heated muscles of my legs flexing fiercely in my hurry.

We reached the inn and I bounded up the stairs, ignoring the looks of Gage the innkeep, and barely hearing Vale's mumbled explanation. He followed me into our room, crossing his arms and leaning against the door as he shut it. The frown he wore on his face was a mix of confusion and impatience.

"You want to tell me what's wrong?"

I threw the bags down on the floor, not caring that our clothing spilled out or that his dirty socks landed on my new clean pants. "Treia didn't lie." I practically spat the words as I started to pace restlessly.

Vale's frown deepened. "What about?"

My hands flexed with nervous energy. The room was too small, the carpet too dingy, and my thoughts were racing too fast to fully comprehend. I tried to sift through memory, recalling her last words – her last moments. "Treia sold both of us out for money."

Vale nodded slowly, unsurprised by this information. "Yes. We knew this."

I switched on my omni-tool and with a flick of my wrist, displayed our bounties that were now in circulation across the Terminus. "And now we know just how much we're worth."

Vale dropped his arms, frown transforming in to an expression of disbelief as he absorbed my words and the holographic images swimming before his eyes. "They didn't…"

I snapped off my 'tool, the images disappearing into nothingness. "What did you do, Vale?" I hissed. "Just why exactly is Cerberus after us?"

Even in the dim light of the evening I recognized the shadows as his face closed over. He blinked once, then turned on his heel and strode out the door. I was left alone with nothing more than my thoughts to keep me company. Much to my dismay, I had grown accustomed to his presence, a ghostly ache replacing the pounding in my head, an echo of his scent where once he stood. I halted my pacing, restlessness evaporating, hating myself in that moment because his image was at the forefront of my mind.

I wanted to punch him, to disown every memory of him, to leave and never come back. Despite everything Vale had dragged me into, I could not purge myself of the hope that he would return. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed him as much as he needed me. We were elbow deep in shit and we'd need to work together to get out of it. I settled into the shadows and waited.

* * *

Love me Dead - Ludo


	38. Chapter 38

Disclaimer: Bioware owns pretty much everything.

A/N: I know it's been a long while since my last update, but real life took precedence. I hope to return to weekly updates, so to those still following the story, you have my deepest gratitude. Thank you so much.

Chapter 38

The shadows deepened into night and I settled in to sleep, but still Vale did not return. I drifted in and out of dreams, the silent memories flitting about on the edge of my consciousness. I was at peace in rest, the calm of the deep night curling about me like an attentive lover. It had been beyond memory since last I felt so myself, free from obligation and suspicion, and in my fatigue I clung to that feeling with the remorseless passion of every dreamer.

The door crashed open, violently shredding my safe haven, and I watched Vale stumble to the floor even as the threads of my dreams evaporated. He grunted, his voice muffled by the dingy carpet, but my attention was instantly drawn to the Alliance soldiers pushing through the door. Full armor rang loudly in the confined space, their rifles glinting in the alien moonlight.

On instinct I rolled from out the covers and onto the floor, taking meager shelter behind the bed. The soldiers moved with precision as they entered the room. I grasped desperately for any sort of weapon and failed. I had no knife, no gun, nothing within reach that I could use to defend myself, and it mattered little anyway. With one shout from a soldier and a quick gesture from another, Vale was pushed into the floor and bound. And then they advanced on me.

I was outnumbered and outgunned, and they cornered me easily. Willing away my fatigue and confusion, I raced through the options before me and found none. I watched in frustration as the soldiers moved into position, their polished rifles trained on me with masked indifference. Reluctantly, I raised my hands in surrender, pushing away the uncomfortable memories as they bound my arms behind my back.

I heard Vale grunt once before a sharp pain lanced through my skull. And then all was blackness.

O o O o O o O

Light seeped in, glaringly bright in the tight confines of my cage. An unhealthy groan stung my ears and I made to snap at the individual responsible before realizing I was the culprit. Sitting up cautiously, I worked to recognize any damage done to my body, noting only the agony which still split my head. Vale grunted in the corner, hunched over with green eyes focused intently upon me.

"So you're alive after all?"

My body cooled in anger and I welcomed the rush of it despite the continued pounding behind my eyes. "No thanks to you."

He waved his hand dismissively. "They had us pegged the moment you turned down that officer at dinner."

I snorted in response, ignoring yet another jolt of pain. "Yes, and I'm sure your attempts with the security officer didn't have anything to do with it."

He held my gaze only momentarily before looking away. "It's the bounties."

"Gee, you think?" I blurted, little thought or care given the mood I was in. I rubbed the knot on the back of my skull and channeled my pain into anger. Anger was a useful emotion.

Vale didn't acknowledge my retort, his attention still seemingly focused on the far wall.

"Let me guess, Cerberus has agents among the Alliance."

"Of course."

I snorted again. "So are you going to tell me what happened?"

Vale remained silent for a time, his body appearing relaxed and still, but I had come to recognize that pose. He was frustrated and as furious as I. I could almost smell the tension coiled about his body, taut muscles flexing beneath rough skin. He seethed silently, calculating the odds and options before us. I almost questioned whether I figured into his equations at all.

"They must've been tipped off somehow." His voice was so low I barely heard it. "I was at the bar, like I told you, and then they were on top of me."

I watched as he shrugged almost nonchalantly, noting the forced measure of his movements.

"They searched me and found the motel keycard. That led them to you."

I snorted again, willing the pain behind my eyes to dissipate, but otherwise remained silent. I pulled my knees to my chest in thought, replaying the night's events. It had all happened so fast: Vale's ungainly entrance followed by the press of Alliance soldiers, the dull ache of surrender followed by the sharp pain of a rifle butt. Anger flowed through my veins of ice and I gave into the welcome desire for revenge. Those bastards would pay.

Time stretched between us as silence lingered, but soon I was up and pacing around our cage. Vale watched me with sleepless eyes, the scent of bourbon drifting upon recycled air. I paused in my thoughts, realizing for the first time where we actually were and the stupid mistake our captors had made.

"We're on Franklin – the Alliance base on the moon." I faced Vale and met acknowledgment in his gaze.

"You just figured that out?"

I ignored his jibe and held up my wrist. "And they left me my omni-tool."

A dark eyebrow quirked slightly at the last, and Vale's face lit up with curiosity. "And so they did."

My pacing abandoned, I moved to study the locking mechanism. As I suspected they used standard colonial tech, same as planetside. It was an easy system breach with my 'tool, but the moment of excitement passed swiftly as reality once more settled heavily upon me. "It's a setup."

Vale tweaked the locking mechanism and opened the door, careful to avoid causing a noisy stir. "Of course it is," he hissed. "The Alliance is far from careless."

I sat back down on the room's solitary bench and shook my head, ignoring the odd spots floating in my vision. "What's the point? We're trapped either way."

His eagerness evaporated as his face darkened in contempt. "I'd rather be trapped out here than in this cell. Come on!"

I hated to admit that he was right. Even more, I hated to admit that in my stubbornness I was acting a fool, and so I followed him out the door and into the bowels of the Alliance base. Our flight was uneventful for the most part, dodging and ducking through empty corridors, our hollow footsteps echoing lightly on the air. Rarely did we see another soldier aside from the occasional sentries guarding entry points. Otherwise the base appeared empty. The thought set me on edge and my adrenaline pumped wildly as we continued our haphazard journey.

"Here," Vale whispered as he jerked his head toward another hall. "Terminal."

I nodded in understanding and crept lightly down the corridor. Vale stood watch while I hacked into the systems, sifting through the files for anything of use. With a bit of luck I came across the daily reports, one in particular detailing the new emergency route in case of fire. I smiled, delighted with the information, and downloaded the schematics. Vale hissed a warning at me and I quickly disengaged, diving around the corner just as the echo of boots rang down the far end of the hall.

Vale pulled me against the wall and we froze, sure we had been caught, each holding our breath as if the very sound of our heartbeats could give away our position. Time seemed to slow as the footsteps grew louder. I could feel the pounding of Vale's heart beside my own, the heat of his skin beneath my tunic. I stifled the swell of desire that poured into me, willing the feeling to subside.

We did not move, even when the footsteps passed us by. Vale still held me to him, his heart still raced, and his breath was hot on my neck. I turned my head slightly, intent on informing him that we were in the clear, but the words stuck in my throat as I met his gaze. Reflected in his eyes was the same heat of desire that stirred craving within me.

I couldn't move. I didn't want to. In that moment I wanted nothing more that to feel the weight of his body pressing down upon mine, the movement of his hips, damp skin slick with sweat as I imagined wrapping my legs tightly about his waist.

"I…" His voice was husky, dry, and the strangeness of it broke through my imaginings.

"We should go." I cleared my throat, a harsh sound against the sudden silence, and stepped away from him.

An unfamiliar look crossed his face and he nodded. "Yeah."

Switching on my 'tool I redirected my energies to the task at hand, studying instead our newly discovered escape route. "This way."

We followed the route cautiously, moving swiftly as silence allowed and checking each darkened corner as we progressed. Based on the schematics we were headed to the shuttle bay, and per all functional Alliance bases, an armory was always adjacent to each shuttle bay. Excitement built in my blood at the prospect of our escape, but doubt and desire still nibbled at my ear.

I knew we were walking into a trap and to escape we had no choice but to spring it, and that thought birthed excitement as well as reservation. I knew we had to leave. I had no intention of becoming a victim of Cerberus, but my list of safe havens was nonexistent as I'm sure was Vale's. I pushed the thought aside, concentrating instead on the corridor before us.

Vale paused next to me, scanning our surroundings. We had bypassed only a few more sentries, but none moved to intercept. In fact, the ease of our escape was more than enough to convince me of the existence of a setup. The question was where, exactly, it would take place.

I glanced at Vale, his green eyes alight with excitement as he motioned me forward, signaling the all clear. We continued apace and found the armory with little difficulty. I scanned the room and found no life signs present, but still we entered cautiously.

It was like what I imagine a child in a candy store would experience. I looked in wonder at all the weaponry lining the walls, the boxes of detachable heat sinks, a neat row of pistols – freshly polished – and workbench with a single spare scope attachment. I eyed it, pushing past memories away even as Vale searched the bank of lockers.

"Jin. Here." He tossed an oversized Alliance uniform my way. I balked at the notion, but recognized the look in his eye. Vale was determined to see this play out and we needed every advantage possible. I sighed irritably, but stripped nonetheless, keenly aware of his heated gaze.

I adjusted the fit as best I was able and turned around for his approval. He nodded, stepping into his own pair of Alliance gear and I felt my heartbeat quicken at the sight of his bare chest. Like him, I did not hide my gaze and indulged in the site of his body. After all, turnabout was fair play.

Vale coughed lightly and I shrugged, pulling two pistols from the nearby shelf. He busied himself with preparations while I double checked the sights, adjusting only one before attaching them to my stolen belt.

"You seem to have a morbid fascination with guns, Jin. Something I should know?"

I shrugged, indifferent to memories of vorcha hunts and past assignments. I did not feel the need to explain the attachment to my lost knife or pistols. That knowledge was mine alone. "I lived on Omega, remember? It's a necessity."

He studied me for a time, and I wondered if he was unsure of truth of my almost flippant comment. I made no move to elaborate and he made no further inquiry. We continued on in silence, readying ourselves for the unknown.

* * *

Numb - Portishead


	39. Chapter 39

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

A/N: This chapter is rated M for violence.

Chapter 39

"Here, take a look at this."

I followed the sound of suspicion in Vale's voice and looked over the terminal's display. "A transport leaving in ten minutes? Convenient."

He snorted. "I say we give them what they expect if they're going to make it easy for us."

I frowned at his tone, a suffocating mixture of anticipation and caution flooding my body. I was uncomfortable springing the trap, but at this point we had no other option. I plucked a well-balanced knife from the storage shelf and stuffed it in my boot. "They're going to be ready for us. Grab what gear you can use and let's head out."

Vale nodded in agreement and reached for a few more clips. I wasn't sure if we would need the extra ammo, but it never hurt to be overly prepared, especially when so many unknowns figured into the equation.

Moving to the hanger door I switched on my 'tool and attempted to scan for life signs in the bay. The readings came back inconclusive and I could only assume hostiles were within. I nodded to Vale and he activated the console. The door slid open soundlessly and I slipped inside in the span of a heartbeat. No one was in sight, but that did nothing to diminish my caution. Someone somewhere was expecting us.

I moved further in, crouching down behind a crate and Vale quickly followed suit. I decided again my cloak for the time being. I had no intention of ending up surrounded when it dissipated, and given my recent run-in with authorities, I wasn't sure it even worked properly. Refocusing, I resumed my visual scan I saw nothing, but still I waited, cautious despite Vale's impatient hiss. The echo of a playful shout resounded throughout the empty shuttle bay and we both froze. I watched in disbelief as a trio of alliance soldiers came into view, shoving each other playfully as they made their way across the hanger.

Vale muttered something unintelligible under his breath, his countenance darkening, but my eyes remained fixed ahead. We could likely take them, but any confrontation now would severely hinder our chances at escape, and I wanted on that damn transport. And so we waited in silence for the boisterous group to pass by while tension coiled around my gut.

"About damn time," Vale whispered, straightening tentatively. "We need to move and fast."

I nodded in agreement and moved forward, leaving him to watch our six. We skittered across the bay, keeping to the shadows lest more obnoxious soldiers were present beyond our sight, but our caution was not needed. The bay was empty and that knowledge set my nerves aflame.

"This is the one," Vale hissed again. "Get the door. I'll keep an eye out."

I bristled at his tone, but did as he ordered nevertheless. Now was not the time to be sensitive. I synced up my 'tool to the locking mechanism, studying the readouts as they scrolled down the display. It was not the same colonial security we had so easily cracked before, but standard Alliance protocol. Fortunately, I had enough experience with marines on leave at Omega that such tech was familiar enough. The lock was hacked and the door slid open with barely enough time to spare. We piled inside just as the thrusters powered up, the rumble of the engines thundering through the airlock.

Vale heaved a sigh of relief and shot me a crooked grin, but I had no intention of relaxing yet. I pulled out a stolen pistol and double checked the ammo count, shifting only slightly as the inertial dampeners compensated for the sudden lift. We had made it off-planet and it only remained to be seen how long our journey would last this go around.

"Still expecting trouble, I see."

I frowned at Vale. "Yes."

He nodded almost absently as he scanned the airlock. "We should get out of here – secure the cargo hold at least."

I stifled a groan. I was getting more than tired of traveling in the cargo hold. "No. We need to clear the ship. Like it or not, they'll be waiting for us."

Vale nodded again and eyed the door as I activated my omni-tool. "Anyone on the other side?"

"Doesn't look like it." I shook my head, frown still creasing my brow. "But that doesn't really mean dick right now."

Vale snorted as I activated my cloak, testing its effectiveness. My vision shifted as the air seemed to crackle around me, and then the familiar sensation took hold. I waved my hand in front of Vale for good measure and he shot me an annoyed glance.

"You're right in front of me, Jin. It's not like I don't know you're there."

I sighed as I activated the door's console, slipping into the cargo bay without a hint of sound. Vale moved in behind me, staying as low and wary as I. Again we were met with emptiness, but the sounds of activity from the forward compartments were impossible to mask. I gestured to Vale and he nodded, moving into cover on my ten o'clock. I couldn't help but wonder at his movements, and again was struck by the practiced ease with which he covered the field of engagement.

Pushing idle thoughts aside, I scanned our perimeter, searching for signs of life and finding none. Once satisfied, and my cloak long since expired, we shifted our full attention to the transport's hub of activity.

"Limited cargo stores," I whispered. "Nothing perishable, minimal food stores."

Vale nodded in agreement. "Nothing large enough to spring an ambush with, either. This transport wasn't going far."

I frowned, but he was right. As much as I loathed jumping into an ambush, we would be sitting ducks in the cargo hold. One sadistic soldier or one happy trigger finger and the hold would be locked and vented leaving us floating to our freedom. I had no illusions about our predicament. After all, faced with a potential threat it's what I would do.

Sensing Vale's impatience I activated my 'tool, scanning for life signs once again. "The readings are inconclusive – some sort of interference."

"No difference. We need to move." He shifted, moving forward low and against the wall, gesturing to me to do the same.

I watched as he moved with a fluid grace, sure in his movements, eyes open and posture screaming caution. I covered his right flank, the compliment to his well practiced maneuvers. Together we skittered up the main hall, only pausing to clear the rooms on either side. We had no need to advance for long. It was as we thought. A small contingent of Alliance soldiers were waiting for us in the crew quarters and, by the sound of it, a second group on the transport's meager bridge.

"Looky here, boys."

I tensed as a deep voice rumbled down the hallway, but ignored the sudden swell of fear in my gut, wrapping my body in cold control. The voices in the crew quarters grew silent, followed swiftly by muffled movement, and I heard the anonymous voice move directly behind me. Despite our stealth and desperation, we had always been at a disadvantage. The soldiers knew the ship. They knew the trap. And we had walked right into it.

Just as we had planned.

Vale's green eyes met mine and a knowing look passed between us. He nodded, imperceptible to all but me, and I sprang into action. An expression of pure surprise crossed his face as I turned on the anonymous voice, and while the soldier was quick, he was not quick enough for me. His head snapped back with a burst of violence as I bolted upward, palm meeting nose with potent force. I wrenched his side arm from its holster in his stupor, grasping hold of an ear and maneuvering him into position in front of me. I always did enjoy a good human shield.

All turned to chaos as a cacophony of shouts rang throughout the narrow hall. Gunfire echoed in my ears mixed with calls for order and surrender, but it was too late. Vale had moved into cover inside the now-empty room, while the soldiers spouted off orders and commands across the way. The anonymous voice sputtered, bleeding and cursing profusely. I pulled him along with me, moving into cover beside Vale.

"You'll never get away with this," the anonymous soldier bleated. "You've got nowhere to go."

I increased the pressure of the gun to his head for good measure.

"Oh I don't know," Vale hissed. "We've got a ship full of hostages. I think we can negotiate."

The soldier snorted with contempt. "Give up now and you won't be hurt. You're worth more alive anyway."

The pulse of rage pounded behind my eyes. I shouldn't have been surprised that they were crooked. After all, it seemed to be the status quo in the Terminus. Even the great and glorious Alliance could be bought. Again I increased the pressure of the gun, my blood boiling wildly in my veins; honor and order my ass.

He stiffened as I cocked the hammer, chambering the mass effect round likely to split his skull before rendering his head nonexistent. The very thought both disgusted and intrigued me, but at the moment his living presence was still useful. Halting my macabre musings I turned an ear to Vale.

"…and at least two on the bridge. That's what, a total of seven? And if at least four of you die, well I guess that just ups the ante, doesn't it. A three-way split - how nice."

A shout rang out down the hall as one of the bridge crew joined the fray, plastering his body against the far wall and just out of view. I would have to step out of cover to take him, but Vale wasn't concerned with such technicalities. He opened fire immediately, the wild round ricocheting off the wall and grazing him. A howl of pain was the soldier's response, followed by another round of cacophony, an Alliance chorus of outrage.

The soldier in my grip stiffened and I recognized what would come next. He attempted to hook his foot around mine, turning awkwardly and slightly off balance. Given his size and training I would have bet he'd have won in a fair fight. But with an instructor like mine, I could have hardly been expecting to fight fair. I pulled the trigger and watched with a surreal calm the effects of a point blank shot.

Gunfire again filled the narrow space and Vale and I were forced back into cover. We shared another glance filled with the sort of desperate familiarity that bound us, and once again he nodded. I activated my cloak and dove to the floor, moving under the chaos and hoping like hell my reckless endeavor was worthwhile. I heard him return fire as I slid down the hall, but I daren't look back. My focus was solely on gaining the bridge.

I moved quickly, the anticipation of my cloak's lapse in the forefront of my mind and spurring me onward. Veering to the right I beat past the grazed soldier, the pilot from the look of him, and rolled in cover behind the nearest console. My cloak still active, I took a moment to survey my cramped surroundings, noting with disappointment that Vale had been wrong – the small bridge held three soldiers, not two. Fortunately for me their attention was trained on the hallway, and not on their six. Not yet anyway, although I had no designs to change that.

The air crackled around me as my cloak dissipated and I breathed deep, fighting the heat in my blood, and took a brief measure of my opponent's positions. The first was bunkered down by the pilot's panel, controls alight with his commands, while the second was not five feet from him. He was young, an ensign by his insignia, and crouched impotently behind the pilot. I almost felt pity for him – as inept at soldiery as he was at usefulness. The pilot, however, appeared capable and determined. Two qualities I respected in a target, but only when I had the upper hand.

I steadied my breath, cold control returning once more and reactivated my cloak. Abandoning any pretense of hope I made my way to the nearest soldier. His neck snapped with an exquisite ease, the slight shudder of his spine muffled by the discordant chaos. He never knew what happened, never recognized his death. I could not say the same for the ensign.

His eyes widened in surprise, then horror, as my cloak dissipated. He opened his mouth to shout a warning to the pilot before his expression turned to confusion. The knife, while oversized, was well balanced, and I looked on in mild fascination as it stuck out from the young ensign's neck. It took mere moments for the blood to spill, pouring quickly onto his uniform, so neat and polished and new. I noted idly as I slid into cover beside him, that the ensign still fought for life, his breathing haggard and wet. The poor boy had tried to warn his shipmate in his last moments only to fail utterly. Again I almost felt pity for him. Almost.

In the span of those few moments was when I believe the pilot realized something was different. The noise of the bridge had ceased to surround him and I watched with detachment as he reached toward the ensign, empty hand searching for another clip. In failing to find his goal, he turned his attention from the hall toward where the ensign now lay, crumpled and sputtering in a growing pool of red. Like the ensign, the pilot's face turned from surprise, and then to horror when the reality of his situation finally dawned on him. He tried to bring his pistol to bear, but it was too late. The pilot was already in my sites. At such close range, I only needed to fire once.

Shouts of confusion filled the hallway. The lack of fire from the bridge had not gone unnoticed and they renewed their assault on Vale with enraged vigor. For the moment, I was out of the fight as my position did not lend itself to the best firing angle. Of course that also meant the soldiers were unable fire directly on me. I could not, however, sit idle and so I racked my brain for a way to breach the crew quarters.

I took a moment to scan my surroundings again, more thoroughly than before as I no longer had hostile company. The tiny bridge contained little, the bare necessities for such a basic transport. Two control stations lined the viewport, included the pilot's, opposite a sensor bank against the back wall. The red flashing light of an emergency alert gave me a wicked idea and I made for the pilot's console, ignoring the crumpled body to my right.

Accessing the controls I punched in the first command that came to mind and smiled humorlessly as the lights went out. Emergency lighting kicked on instantly, bathing the transport's innards in an unhealthy crimson glow. Shouts of frustration rang anew as the tempo of fire changed yet again. I ducked down as poorly aimed shots rang down the hall toward the bridge. I knew it was unlikely I'd be hit in my current position, but I'd no need to chance it. I activated my cloak and dove to the floor, repeating another reckless venture.

I pushed memories away of Omega's grimy floors as I slithered down the hallway, so very opposite the cool, smooth metal paneling that I now crossed. It seemed like another life, so very far away, and yet still I found myself wrapped in violence.

The lighting flickered slightly and I saw my opening, using the distortion to hide my cloak. I was happy to see Vale had been wrong again, that there were only four soldiers in the crew quarters instead of five. However, that still left me little room to maneuver, and so dissolved into the shadows of an upper bunk just as my cloak faded.

I daren't move, watching the soldiers beneath me fire aimlessly into the next room. By their positioning, they intended to close on Vale, forcing him deeper into the next room or out of cover completely. If that were to happen, we'd both be screwed, although we did have one advantage. They wanted us alive.

I swiftly surveyed the area from my perch, careful to remain in the flickering shadows. Sparks lit up the room, bursts of gunfire punctuating the shadows, the thrill in my blood pounding in time. And then it happened: I watched in building horror as the nameless soldiers gestured to one another and moved in concert, moved with purpose. I flicked on my cloak and hopped down.

My presence went unnoticed for mere moments as I advanced on the nearest soldier. He struggled at the last, tensing and resisting my grip before his neck snapped under my apathetic hands. His death was noted by the soldier on his flank who instantly trained her weapon on me and shouted a warning to her companions. It was the only signal Vale needed.

I could see him move from cover and into the hall from the corner of my eye, but my attention was focused on the three soldiers in front of me and their attention now squarely trained on me. I ducked down and rolled to the next soldier, using her body as cover when her shot went wide. I trusted not to my vision as the air crackled around me, shimmering as my cloak started to fade. It was of little use in such close quarters and my only saving grace seemed to be the flickering shadows of the emergency lighting. If not for darkness, I'd be dead.

This soldier was not as compliant as my first human shield and she fought me for control, her companions regrouping accordingly. They fired in short, controlled burst, and my nerves screamed to duck in cover, but my training told me otherwise. I held my ground, difficult given the struggling soldier in my arms. And then a sudden searing pain erupted in my side and the ground rushed up to meet me. Hand to hand combat had never been my specialty and I felt an odd twinge of regret at that fact as she pointed her pistol at my head.

Blood sprayed my face as the left side of my assailant's head exploded, the unfortunate consequence of flesh meeting with a bullet. She crumpled on top of me and I watched beneath her cooling body as Vale dispatched the remaining soldiers with the dispassionate fluidity of a machine. The shadows danced upon his face as he fired again for good measure, securing our location before kneeling beside me. His eyes were hooded and dark, and yet I saw a spark of concern even so.

"That was stupid, Jin."

I shrugged, suddenly regretting the movement as another jolt of pain rocked me. I sucked in a breath, but otherwise remained silent.

"You've been hit."

I nodded, clenching my teeth and gritting out a foul curse. "So glad you noticed."

A single eyebrow shot up as he considered me. "Come on. Let's get you into that pathetic excuse for a med bay."

I winced as he pushed the dead soldier off me, the absence of her weight sending renewed spasms of pain up my spine. Vale was uncharacteristically gentle with me as he helped me up, taking my weight on his shoulders as I hobbled awkwardly across bloody floor. Together, we made our way down the hall and out of the trap. It had been quite an interesting start to our day.

* * *

Into the Void, Happiness in Slavery - Nine Inch Nails


	40. Chapter 40

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

A/N: This chapter is rated M for sexual content.

Chapter 40

"Is everything taken care of?" I asked, wincing in pain as Vale re-entered the med-bay.

"Yes," he nodded, frowning as he once more examined the wound on my side. "Coordinates are set, transponder signal disabled, and f/f system modified per your orders _ma'am_."

I grunted at his dry tone, but said nothing else. He had done as I had asked although I knew he hesitated to return to Omega. Given our current predicament, however, we had few options. With a Cerberus bounty on our heads, our list of allies would be short indeed, and Aria's hatred of that particular organization was a bit of knowledge I held close. She would aid us if only to cause Cerberus to lose face.

And Aria and I still had unfinished business to resolve.

"How do you feel?"

I grunted again as I tried to sit upright, but fell short. I settled instead for propping my upper body up on my elbows and meeting Vale's disapproving gaze. "I've felt better, but the medigel helped."

A single eyebrow rose and he shot me a look that I had grown increasingly familiar with over the past half hour. "Take it easy, Jin. Lie down. Rest. You're going to be sore for a few days."

"I suppose that's to be expected," I grumbled, irritated that I had gotten hit in the first place. Granted, I should have been dead, or at least in the custody of those crooked soldiers, but somehow Vale and I had pulled off the hijacking of an Alliance transport. That was something I'd never done with a man before.

"Yes, it is." He skimmed over the medical terminal display before moving to my bedside, green eyes focused and countenance darkening. "That really was a stupid thing you did."

"Well I didn't hear you coming up with stellar ideas." I sat fully upright and swung my legs over the side of the bed, pushing away the throbbing pain in my side. I had been wounded before, and was intimately acquainted with pain, even welcomed it's embrace from time to time. However, as I watched him check my wound I realized the tension in my body was not wholly from the injury.

"Take off your shirt."

"What?" I asked incredulously.

He shot me that same look and gestured to my injury. "Or just lift up your shirt. I'll need to change that bandage and wrap it with a new one – make sure the medigel has adhered."

"Fine." I did as ordered, tempted to mimic his earlier dry comments, but held my tongue and pulled off my shirt. It was soaked in blood and made a wet smack as I threw it carelessly to the floor. Vale moved in closer to address my wound and I could feel the heat coming off his body. My skin prickled as he removed the bandage, tossing the stained gauze into the trash and reaching for another pack of medigel. It was cool upon my body, and I closed my eyes as the tingling sensation spread throughout. The pain was still present, but slowly receding under Vale's administration - a change from our usual interactions and that fact was not lost on me.

I closed my eyes and allowed Vale to work, relishing the feel of his hands on my body as he wrapped a new, clean bandage about my waist. He worked swiftly yet carefully, as if he had treated gunshot wounds countless times before. The thought didn't surprise me, but his tenderness did. I was unused to such a thing and it made me feel somewhat uncomfortable. I was suddenly very eager for him to complete his task.

"Are you done yet?" I asked, failing to keep the impatience out of my voice.

He took a step back and crossed his arms, frowning at me in disapproval. "Yes."

I stretched my arms, testing my range of motion and hopped off the bed, relishing the jolt of pain that shot up my side. Pain meant I was alive - alive and in possession of a stolen transport en route to Omega. The thought both terrified and excited me. Oddly enough, I missed the grimy streets, the sharp scent of vermin, the din of the vendors. I missed the familiarity of it, even the surety of danger, and while I hated to admit it, I missed Aria.

"You sure you want to go back there?" Vale's frown remained plastered on his face.

I nodded and twisted a bit, testing Vale's dressing. "You're bright ideas haven't gotten us anywhere, so yes. Aria will want to see me and," I added, twisting the opposite direction, "I'm sure she'll be interested in any information you're able to provide her."

That damnable eyebrow arched slightly as his countenance darkened. "Information on what?"

"You worked for Cerberus. She'll want whatever you can provide." I paused in my movements and met his concerned gaze. "Consider it payment for her hospitality."

He chuckled darkly. "Hospitality? Right. Why don't you call it what it is: slavery."

The tone of his voice and the very word he uttered sent a chill up my spine. I suddenly felt naked beneath his stern gaze. "You know nothing of slavery."

I saw the question in his eyes at the steel in my voice, but I know not why he held his tongue and I didn't care. Shoving aside memories best forgotten I strode past Vale and toward the hall, intent on escaping the conversation. And him.

"You're never going to be anything more to her, Jin. I hope you know that."

I spun on Vale, molten anger flooding my veins and fueling my rage. "As if I'm anything but a payday to you! You made that perfectly clear from the start."

"You know it started out that way, but –"

I didn't want to hear him or his excuses. I was tired of being used, of the lies, and my attempts at learning his secrets had been useless. Indeed, in that moment I was unable to discern if I was more furious with him or my own ineptitude. Turning on my heel I again made to leave, but in two long strides Vale was on me, his grip firm on my wrist. I spun around to face him, the fury in my eyes mirroring his own, and on impulse I slapped him.

The impact seemed to echo in the small space as we stared at each other, each absorbed in varying degrees of surprise and disappointment. I welcomed the sting of my palm, dismayed that I had so quickly lost control. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. What was there worth saying?

He touched his reddening cheek absently, his eyes never leaving mine, and my sudden need to escape resurfaced. Again I made to leave, but he tightened his grip on my wrist. I tried to yank it away, my anger returning with a vengeance at this violation, but before I could voice my protest, his lips were suddenly on mine.

Shock overwhelmed my senses and I fought for control as he pressed his body against mine. I tried pushing him away, but the longer I struggled, the less effort I exerted, desire gradually displacing the anger pounding in my ears. He seemed to recognize my indecision and pressed his advantage. The breath spilled from my lungs as I was forced against the wall, the welcoming explosion of agony in my side intoxicating. I gave up all pretense of resistance as he pinned my wrists above my head, his kisses hot and hungry, and I recognized in him a yearning that mirrored my own.

I'd broken almost every rule I had ever set for myself, abandoned everything I had ever known with this man, and I realized I didn't care anymore. I wanted this, and so ignored the warning bells in the back of my mind. What was one more rule to break when I had nothing left to lose? If I was going to make another mistake, I'd make it worthwhile. And so I gave in to the heat radiating off his body, to the firm hands grasping my wrists, and welcomed the hunger in his kisses upon the bare flesh of my body.

I watched in silence as he pulled his shirt over his head, relishing the sight of his bare chest and the guttural noise that slipped from his throat. I ran a finger over the scar that marked him, a question on my lips. His eyes met mine, but I found only lust and so pulled him close, the need to feel him inside me growing nigh unbearable.

Clothing was peeled off with barely controlled fervor and I pushed him to the ground, settling myself atop his warmth and drunk on lust. I savored the feel of the hard floor, cool against my knees and mingling with the keen ache in my side. It was my choice to inflame my wound, to exacerbate my pain, and I welcomed the agony within as I welcomed him.

He filled me without hesitation, the feel of him hot and desperate, and I could have cried out for the sheer pleasure of it. He moved with a bold ferocity, the risk of our actions lost amidst the violence of our coupling. And I wallowed in the mix of pain and pleasure, gasping with a shocked breath as he flipped me onto my back, his pace slowing, deepening ever so deliciously.

I could feel his breath heavy on my neck, could smell his flesh as he sheathed his length deep within. A jolt of pain shot through my side and I cried out in release, a rush of memory and ecstasy flooding my being. Still he continued, riding my wave of euphoria until he at last was sated as well and collapsed atop me.

We lingered for a time on the floor in a tangle of limbs and a mess of clothes, and I tried half-heartedly to wrap my mind around what had just transpired. It had been a mistake - I had known that going into it – but as I studied his eyes, heavy lidded and satisfied, I realized it was likely the best mistake I'd ever made.

* * *

Color me Once - Violent Femmes

Talk Show Host - Radiohead


	41. Chapter 41

Disclaimer: Bioware pretty much owns everything.

Chapter 41

His skin was warm under my touch, his breathing deep and relaxed as he slept soundly, leg draped heavily over my own. I watched him in silence, Vale's soft snores drifting on the air and felt a sense of the familiar filling me amidst strangeness. It was a moment of peace I was quite unaccustomed to, my nerves not yet on edge as I knew they would be once we docked. I sighed heavily at the thought and felt him shift slightly beside me.

Vale mumbled something unintelligible, his garbled words quickly replaced by soft snores once again. I felt the slight hint of a smile curl my lips at the ease with which he slept, a skill which I had never developed, and let my mind wander. We had come so far, he and I, and made little progress if any at all. We were back to square one, back at Omega relying on Aria's good graces for our survival. Granted it was a situation in which I had flourished, but I feared ill for Vale. His knowledge would either be his downfall or his safety net.

Either way we were out of options.

I slid out from underneath his weight, the small bunk barely large enough for the two of us, and padded softly across the crew quarters. The room was far more tolerable after we removed the bodies, but I still felt restless, and so made for the bridge. I glanced back once more before entering the hall, but Vale still slept soundly, the lines of strain on his face absent in slumber. He was beautiful in his repose.

The stars twinkled brightly in the void and I checked the chronometer for our arrival. We still had another standard hour yet to travel before we'd need to drop out of FTL, and so I took a moment to enjoy the view. It had seemed forever since last I admired the stars, ever present and infinite. It was a shame they weren't more appreciated.

Soft footfalls sounded behind me and I needn't look to recognize Vale's movements. I know not if he recognized the instinctual tension in my body at his approach, and if so he gave no indication, instead wrapping his arms around my nakedness and pulling me to him. I let him, forcing my body to relax, recognizing the unexpected intimacy that had suddenly developed between us. It was an odd evolution in our relationship, so often I had thought him no more than a mere lout, but his touch was attentive. Attentive _and_ well-practiced.

I felt the heat in my veins suddenly respond to his presence, the warmth of his body against my own, and turned to face him with unfeigned desire in my eyes. I recognized the minute twitch in his cheek, the darkening of his gaze, and knew that he appreciated my taste for hedonism. I pulled his lips down to my own, tasting of him yet again. He responded in kind, mirroring my building desire until finally we gave into the other's demands among the shadows of the stars.

o O o O o O o

I waited for the rush of atmosphere to equalize before stepping out of the airlock, allowing the scent of Omega to fill my nostrils once more after what felt like an endless separation. Memory flooded my mind as I breathed deep, hunger and pain and satisfaction all melding into a sense of the familiar. I was home and glanced back at Vale as we departed our stolen ship, the disquiet apparent in his eyes. I saved the sympathetic gaze as it would mean nothing to him, choosing instead to move forward down the gangway and onto the station proper. I would not be forestalled by something as trivial as apprehension.

I moved with purpose through Omega's streets, taking winding routes and backtracking as per was my routine. I could sense Vale's impatience and if I had done my job he would be thoroughly lost by now, and according to the frustration writ plain upon his face, he was. I let loose a wicked smile and gestured to the door beside him.

"We're here."

"You're apartment I presume?"

I nodded, willing my excitement to subside as the reality of our situation sunk in. "Aria already knows of our arrival. Lock the door and wait here for me to return."

He frowned, the tension in his voice evident. "How can she possibly know that already?"

I shot him a crooked smile, somewhat dismayed by his question. "It's her station, Vale. She knows everything that goes on here." He grunted noncommittally and I activated the console, unlocking the door for him. "Don't touch anything."

"What? Why not."

I shook my head dismissively as I strode inside. Ignoring the urge to engage in my usual routine, I instead reached into my closet and pulled out a dark, hooded jacket along with a thin knife. "The vid's okay – you can watch that – but you'd be smart not to touch anything else. Just trust me."

I received a dubious look in return. "Okay. I guess."

"Good." I activated the console again on my way out and locked the door before he could protest. I knew it wasn't the safest place to stash him, but Vale needed to be out of sight when I met with Aria. I had to be able to gage her reaction to our return without his presence to muddle our meeting and I didn't want Aria knowing what a distraction he had become. Of course I had little doubt she knew already.

I pulled my hood up, hiding my face within the shadows, certain that caution would be warranted. Once again I made my way through the familiar passages, grit and grime seeping into my pores, the familiar scent of salarian noodles mingling with the trash outside the local whorehouse. I smiled in recognition at the garish lights and advertisements, at the venders with their shady wares. Oh I had missed the vulgar refuse that littered the streets and called Omega home. Such dregs lived for survival and fueled Omega with the desperate energies that drove its inhabitants toward ever greater debauchery. I never felt as alive as I did within such anarchy and it was that heady feeling that drove me straight back into Aria's lair with little more than pride and arrogance at my disposal.

The thrum of bass filled me and I quickly readjusted to the sudden barrage of sensory input. False flames danced on the walls while lithe shadows flickered within. Music pulsated violently accompanied by the rigorous cacophony of drunken revelry. I breathed deep, inhaling the familiar scent of Afterlife; an intoxicating mix of sweat and hunger and desperation. Despite returning to my former hunting grounds, I couldn't help but remember that I had been the prey, and I loathed remaining in such a role. Swallowing my doubts I made for the perch in which I knew Aria resided, no doubt expecting me.

I don't know what it was, exactly, that I imagined, but I did not believe that her very presence still held such a powerful sway over me. As I crested the rise to her private booth, her henchmen watching warily from the sideline, I paused mid-step as our eyes met, breath catching in my throat and all logical thought evaporating from my mind. I could think of nothing but the line of her neck, sensual lips pursed in a mix of satisfaction and curiosity, the spark in her eye promising delicious punishment. In that instant I was ensnared by her and worse yet, I felt no desire to escape.

She studied me with a knowing gaze, that dangerous spark never waning, nodding almost imperceptibly as she finished her inspection. A deadly hand gestured for me to sit and I did so without question. "And so you return, Jin. How nice."

I opened my mouth to retort without thinking, biting my tongue at the last when I recognized the tension in her pose. Instead I nodded, submitting.

She studied me for another moment before speaking once again. "You made a mess of my station, Jin, and now you want back in? Quite the quad you have there."

The batarian to her right snorted in laughter, but was quickly silenced by the fire in Aria's eyes at the unwelcome interruption. Her clipped tone told me enough to remain silent and I did so, all the while churning with a volatile mix of longing and anxiety. What exactly did she have in store for Vale and I?

"That disaster in the bar left a bad taste in my mouth. And then you up and run away." Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, the spark of anger bright. "And then there was Guy. I hand you a delightful target and you fawn over him like a bitch in heat. Really Jin," she cocked an eyebrow and leaned back almost casually. "I expected a bit more professionalism from you."

Shame washed over me at her words, the disappointment harsh and biting, but I met her gaze unflinching. "I got the job done. You never specified how."

Her sudden burst of laughter filled the space between us and I resisted the urge to relax. It had been hard, nigh impossible at times, but I had learned long ago to guard myself against my mistress. Aria had taught me much, but she was a master manipulator and I'd no intent of falling further into her web.

"You did at that, Jin." She smiled disarmingly, but the spark of anger lingered still. "But this latest venture of yours lacks subtlety. You have half the galaxy out looking for you."

Ignoring the curve of her cheek I met her eyes again, wielding the budding fury in my veins as a shield. "That's a bit of an exaggeration –"

"A technicality." She waved her arm dismissively. "Why shouldn't I cash in? With both you and your friend I could make a hefty profit. What good are you to me?"

The question took me aback and I worked to force my thoughts into logical cohesion. Aria's presence was heady indeed and she scrutinized me with a well-trained eye.

"My knowledge," I blurted. Aria remained still so I continued on, undaunted. "I'm worth more to you alive with the knowledge I possess – clients, targets, insiders. Not to mention my 'talents.'"

"Your knowledge is a liability, Jin." She snorted in contempt. "I'm not fond of loose ends. You'll have to do better than that."

I remained still, shaking off the threads of desire as I composed myself. I had no additional arguments for her, and it was unlikely that she would listen to me at all. Knowing Aria as I did, it was wholly likely that she'd already made her decision and was just toying with me for her own amusement. As the realization struck me, I felt the echo of desire return flavored with a hint of irritation.

She sipped from her glass and turned her gaze toward the perspiring masses on the dance floor. "Fortunately for you, I can benefit from this little debacle." Her voice was so low I had to strain to hear her. "Your return will cause Cerberus to lose face."

Unsurprisingly she was correct. My voluntary return to Aria and her ability to protect me and Vale would make Cerberus look weak, unable to eliminate their chosen targets. And although she need not state it specifically, we were now in her debt despite what talents I could put to use. Aria owned us, and that thought did not sit lightly with me. I had no desire to be a slave again.

I stood suddenly, wishing for nothing more than to be back in my apartment, curled in my chair, the scent of gun oil in the air and a cool knife in my hand. I recognized my impatience in the continued tension of her pose. She gestured to one of her henchmen with a graceful wave of her hand.

"Here. Make yourself useful."

Anto passed me a datapad and I took it without hesitation, old habits resurfacing. I studied the readout briefly and shot Aria a questioning look. "A target already?"

She took another sip of her drink. "You might as well start making yourself useful again. No need to waste time."

I nodded, recognizing her dismissal, and sunk deeper into my hood as I left the bar. Tucking the data pad into my pocket I wound my way back to my apartment, ready for a hot shower in the tiny stall and the weight of familiar guns on my hips. As wary as I was to return to Aria's side, I couldn't help but enjoy the thrill she provided. I would have been mediocre, unimportant if not for her, and as I opened the door to my empty apartment, the excitement drained from my blood. Vale was gone.

* * *

Right Where it Belongs v2, Gave Up - Nine Inch Nails


	42. Chapter 42

Disclaimer: Biowares owns all.

A/N: This chapter rated M for violence and language.

Chapter 42

I focused on the empty air before me, pushing aside the uncertainty and fear threatening to rise. Even if Vale would have been stupid enough to leave on his own, he would have notified me – left of message of some kind. Upon searching my apartment, the feel of it still familiar and strangely comforting, I found nothing out of the ordinary save for the vid screen. It had been damaged, a single corner slightly warped by what looked to be chemical burns.

I frowned, remembering the chemical rounds favored by a good majority of Aria's henchmen. I was not surprised that she had taken him, but that the individuals tasked with his abduction had so completely avoided the many traps in my apartment. Not a one was sprung and I cursed myself for a fool. If I had not been in such a hurry to see Aria, I could have prevented this fiasco, or at least eliminated a few of Vale's kidnappers.

I signed resignedly, clutching the datapad in my hand and again studied its contents. The target was a deep cover Cerberus operative making her home in Omega's substructure. Foolish. I was more than familiar with the layout, the many ventilation shafts a boon to any competent assassin. However, the longer I studied the information, the more I realized the possible leverage I had. I could only speculate on the motivation behind an assignment, and a Cerberus affiliation was more than adequate motivation, but I couldn't help but suspect there was more to this game than the standard players.

Granted I had no intention of cooperating with a Cerberus lackey, but if I could decipher Aria's motivation behind the assignment, I would be in a far better bargaining position for Vale's return. I had no doubt that is was on Aria's orders that Vale was relocated, and knowing her as I did, Aria would flaunt her brazen insult upon my return to her side. It was no spectacle for her, but a lesson to me and to those who failed to heed her orders. Her control of Vale was my punishment, and as I set the datapad aside, I decided I would no longer play her game.

First Arch, now Aria; I was done playing the slave.

o O o O o O o

She was a blonde, petite little thing and on any other day I'd likely overlook her as one of the countless gutter rats that haunted Omega's back alleys. I was almost dismissive at first, toying with the idea that Aria had sent me on a false assignment. There seemed nothing special about this girl. Her hair hung in filthy locks, slicked with grime and glued to a forgettable face, thin lips and gaunt cheeks poking out from underneath. An aquiline nose gave her the appearance of a bird, but it was her eyes that caught me, crystal blue and brilliant. Those eyes took in everything around her, from the dying batarian in the corner to the elcor vendor's burning cigar, her hooked beak sniffing the air and taking note of the smoke's sharp flavor.

I watched her from the shadows, casually eating my noodles, the greasy box slippery and welcome in my hands. I kept my face hidden from her, deep within my jacket's hood, wary of her Cerberus connections and still annoyed with the bounty on my head. I'd no doubt she'd recognize me immediately, but given her young age, I also doubted she'd played at such deception long enough to master it. She was young, far younger than I would have thought practical, but perhaps that was Cerberus' game: use youth to dissuade suspicion. Unfortunately Aria cared not for age. She cared for power and the idea that Cerberus threatened her power was mildly amusing.

I watched the young girl move to and fro, melding into the crowds, picking pockets of the passers-by with ease. She was talented, this little bird, and I couldn't help but remember the days when I was just starting out. Aria had been a welcome change from Arch and allowed me an illusion of freedom that I'd never before believed in. I went into our arrangement open-eyed, but still naïve despite everything. I hungered for a taste of the power she offered, the skills she taught, the thrill of control. I wanted to become master of my own destiny through her tutelage, and yet I had willingly become barely more than a thrall. I had let the love of the hunt overshadow my better sense, a decision I now came to regret. Funny thing about life's lessons: they only were worthwhile when I was already covered in shit.

Halting my musings I checked my chronometer and tossed my now-empty box on the nearby trash heap. Like clockwork the operative scuttled down the alley and into an abandoned apartment as she had the four cycles previous. I moved deeper into the shadows, finding the ventilation shaft I had discovered on a prior mission. It was a tight fit, but I maneuvered easily thanks to a century's worth of leaked industrial lubrication. Vermin scurried ahead of me as I slid forward, avoiding the bits of wire and debris in which the pests made their homes. It was not long before I was overhead, the grating sound of the operative's high-pitched voice echoing down the long tube.

She should have secured the area first. Careless.

I listened in silence as she reported the day's events, what tiny fragments of information she had gleaned, the movements of the local vorcha pack, and the residential gossip regarding the latest issue of Fornax. My heart sank as the realization dawned on me: this was not a mark with priceless intelligence, but a message to be sent. Aria wanted Cerberus to know that their agent's cover was blown. She wanted them to acknowledge Omega's singular rule.

However, as my distress turned to anger a wicked desire struck me: I wanted nothing more than to break Omega's one rule.

Adrenaline surged through my system as the little bird completed her report, and I knew the end was drawing nigh. I shifted slightly in the tube, adjusting my body to better fit in the tight enclosure and bringing my knife to bear. Focusing my breathing I slid further down the shaft toward a small outlet. I would have only mere moments after she entered the alley to complete my assignment and I would not fail.

I watched from above as she carefully exited the apartment, melding seamlessly into the shadows. I would have lost her had I not already been paying careful attention. Perhaps she was better than I gave her credit; or perhaps not, as she never heard me slip from the vent to land soundlessly behind her.

She was stronger than she appeared and actually tried to struggle against the inevitable, but to no avail. I checked her shoulder firmly before wrapping my free arm around her forehead, her untrained response exposing the soft skin of her neck. The knife was sharp and the cut quick and the little bird fell limply to the ground, the flood of her life draining into the grates with the rest of Omega's trash. I wiped my knife on her soiled clothes before dumping her body in the nearby drainage pipe, already clogged and overflowing with refuse. However, I need not worry as the local vorcha pack would make short work of her, and if not, I doubted she had anyone who cared enough to search her out.

An initial search of the abandoned apartment was bare save for an archaic terminal, a thick layer of dust on the console save for a set of greasy fingerprints. I sighed in dismay; she was no professional, but most likely a local recently recruited by Cerberus. It was a shame really, and another of life's shitty lessons.

After securing the area I synced up my 'tool to the outdated terminal, scanning recent activity and downloading her keystrokes. I noted with admiration that the little bird had been the only user on the terminal for some time and had likely repaired it on her own. A twinge of irritation stirred my temper and again I couldn't help but wonder what Aria really had to gain from this assignment. Clearly the girl was no threat and messages could be sent in an easier, more potent manner, but as I studied the readout the answer eventually stared back at me. The little bird's contact was on Omega.

* * *

Something in the Way - Nirvana

Under and Over it - Five Finger Death Punch


	43. Chapter 43

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

A/N: This chapter is rated M for violence and language. Also I apologize for the delayed posting. I couldn't get this chapter right and I'm still not happy with it, but if I tweaked it anymore it would never have been published. So anyway, here it is.

Chapter 43

"Where is he?" I demanded, stalking purposefully up the stairs to Aria's perch. Her guards stood to the side, weapons at the ready, but they were accustomed to my presence if not the manner of my approach. Aria's lip quirked slightly as I stood rigid before her, my nerves aflame and patience stretched thin. She considered me with an amused eye before responding.

"He is safe." Her wicked grin, once so familiar to me, now seemed foreign and disconcerting. I watched as she waved a hand and within moments, Vale stumbled onto the landing, his armored escort shoving him to the floor. "I thought he should stay nearby. For safekeeping. You understand."

I bit my tongue on a sharp retort. I understood alright. Vale was her collateral, leverage to broker my continued obedience. And given my recent wanderings, it was no wonder Aria had decided to use him. With his knowledge of Cerberus and our obvious connection, he was a valuable commodity indeed. I was unsurprised, but irritated all the same.

"How very thoughtful of you," I stated, careful to keep my tone neutral although I had no doubt Aria recognized my ire. "And how long do you plan on providing for his continued well-being?"

Vale coughed as he rose up on hands and knees, clothing dirtied, the shadows barely concealing an ugly abrasion on his face. Aria eyed him as well, her grin shifting into a more satisfied expression before returning her gaze to me. "For as long as I see fit."

I cocked an eyebrow in annoyance. "What is it that you want, Aria? Speak plain. I'm tired of your games."

A flash of anger lit dark eyes, but disappeared as swiftly as if it had never been. I studied Aria's reaction to my insolence as she, in turn, considered me. The wicked grin resurfaced, flavored with an undertone of challenge. "But you like our games, Jin."

I struggled to quash the sudden swell of desire within, failing to convince myself that the surge of heat in my core was actually from the nearby flames. I took a calculated step toward Aria, noting with satisfaction that her attending guards made no move to intervene. Interesting.

She studied me a moment longer before standing, pacing beside Vale's prone frame with the eyes of a predator. He sat back on his haunches and met her stare, stupidly spitting out a mess of blood at her boots. She halted her pacing, the look on her face one of haughty repugnance as she stared down at him. I watched in contained frustration as Aria placed a booted heel on his head and drove his face into the metal flooring, a muffled grunt of pain escaping bruised lips. Her guards sprung into action, taking up positions, but Aria waved them away with a flick of her wrist, angry eyes once more trained upon me.

"You'll play my game, Jin. Just like you always have." She shifted her weight. I heard Vale's muttered curse at the added pressure and anger boiled in my veins.

"I'm not your slave." I stated, the coolness of my tone intentional. Controlled.

Aria's laughter filled the air between us and sent a chill up my spine. She stepped back from Vale and he seemed slump even further into the floor as she returned to her seat, two guards and a fresh drink at her side. "But you've always been my slave, Jin. And willingly at that."

She took a sip of her beverage, the glass already cool with condensation, and it seemed to flicker in the glare from the nearby flames. I felt the heat of fury pulse within my blood, anger darting behind my eyes, but Aria was correct. I had followed her willingly, fulfilled her orders and found purpose in her work. She had treated me far better than Arch ever had, but I had been hers nonetheless. The brand was candy-coated, sweetened, and disguised as so many other games in Aria's world, but here I stood a slave yet again.

I forced a nod of understanding, willing my body to remain calm despite the raging inferno within. Aria took another sip of her drink before gesturing to her guards. Grizz dragged Vale off the landing while Anto shoved a datapad into my hands. Silence hung in the air, thick with tension and all things unsaid between us. I held her gaze a moment longer before looking down at my next assignment.

"You knew this was coming," she stated plainly. "The other Cerberus operative."

Aria was correct again as I thought back to the data gathered from the little bird's terminal. I skimmed the intelligence in my hand, noting dates, times, and locations, intent on studying the information in greater detail upon my return home. I had never planned a job in the open and no wish to start now.

"I expect perfection, little slave." The wicked smile returned to her lips, barely masking the blatant sting in her words.

I said nothing, did nothing, merely turned on my heel and left her perch. My fury would ebb, my pride would heal, but my patience would always remain – a lesson I learned long ago. I had escaped slavery once. I would again.

o O o O o O o

I was surprised by my target. He was a character rare on Omega and I should have expected him to stand out more than he did. Dressed in a fashionable grey suit, with pristine white cuffs, I couldn't help but wonder how Aria and her network had not recognized him for what he was earlier. I also couldn't help but wonder how he kept his shoes polished to a mirror shine when walking through Omega's shit. It was a curiosity to say the least.

However, as he went about the day to day business of managing his small store, I went about my task and studied his habits. From the information I was given, his shipping business was actually legit, as legitimate as business on Omega could be, and frequently received cargo from multiple systems. Based on the latest cargo manifests, he specialized in "exotic wares" - Omega slang for items illegal in Council space, and judging by his profit margin he was quite successful.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust as the stink of a drunken passer-by interrupted my surveillance, his clothes rife with the stench of piss and vomit. I could only guess that he'd been a patron of the whorehouse at the alley's end, but dismissed my speculation in favor of the task at hand; until I realized what he was. I had seen this same man several times before, during this mission and in the past. He was one of Aria's men, one of a pair sent to keep an eye on me lest I fail in my duties. It seemed that some things never changed.

Upon completion of my past missions Aria would have knowledge of the outcome even before I could make my report, ready with critique or congratulations. I had learned long ago that she had eyes on me, and came to enjoy the idea of an audience. Even now the thrill had not waned. However, I couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of disappointment that her lackeys would be so easily identifiable. As early as my second cycle out I had already made the "homeless" batarian in the shadows; and now the drunken human wandering through my hunting grounds.

I sighed almost regretfully, abandoning my post and melting into the shadows, trading my assigned target for one of my own choosing. The Cerberus operative would never know how close he came to death, and as I disappeared into the alley, the thrill of the hunt shot through me anew.

It didn't take long for the batarian to follow and I watched as his once dull eyes suddenly brightened, alert and aware and searching for me. I'd no doubt he was quite adept at his profession, trained to observe, pursue, and report, but from the way he moved I sorely doubted he was used to playing the prey. He was well practiced, shuffling gait and hunched back too perfect, too static. The "homeless" hireling was too comfortable in his cover, unable to be anything else, and lacking that chameleonic trait proved his undoing.

I waited for him, soiled with the runoff from the pipes overhead, the trickle of fluid partially masking his approach. It was his shuffling gait that gave him away, and I had little difficulty anticipating his arrival by the fixed interval of his steps. The batarian never saw the knife embedded in his chest until it was too late. He stood still, eyes wide with shock as he recognized me in the shadows, mouth open and ready to express his surprise. Instead, a gasp escaped his lips as he fell to his knees and then to the floor, the sounds of his passing lost amidst the ever-present hum of Omega.

My search of him revealed little save for two grubby credit chits and a scribbled note with the location of the operative's business. I stilled, pausing my work as another set of footsteps echoed lightly down the alley. As I suspected he would, the human drunk had followed me, stumbling gracelessly into my sight. He wobbled aimlessly down the alley, pausing here and there as if lost, and like his counterpart was well-versed in his role. And like the batarian he died quickly, unaware of the death lurking in the shadows just behind him, and blessedly ignorant of his failure.

I was sure Aria would be furious at her lost investments, and I could only imagine the lessons that she would impart had her two observers remained alive to receive it. Fortunately for them, they were spared such a fate.

With my leash unbound I took advantage of such a monumental opportunity, stealing down the alley and making for the taxi. I had only been to Aria's residence once. I was very much looking forward to another visit and by my chronometer I had time to spare. The pirate queen would remain on her perch for the rest of the cycle and I would need to make the most this opportunity.

The trip through the station's interior was relatively short and I made it to her apartments without incident. Unlike Afterlife, Aria did not advertise the locale of her personal rooms for which I could not fault her. Despite the bland exterior, however, her residence was well guarded. Fortunately for me, I was a familiar face among her men and while my presence was noted, it was not challenged. It was as I suspected: Aria had kept quiet about our falling-out lest she lose face. It would not do to have her top assassin going rogue and running amok through her station.

Wandering outside her apartments was simple, her guards ever alert and ready. However, I also knew how Aria worked and the doormen would have been notified if I was expected; no exceptions. Unlike me, they had learned not to disobey. Getting inside her rooms would be a tricky challenge to say the least.

I strode past the guards, past her apartments and into the maze of alleys, always with an eye for an opening. It took more time than I would have liked, but I eventually found what I was searching for, my nose ferreting out the unforgettable scent of vorcha. A nearby nest meant a mess of shafts, likely air ducts or rusted out water filtration pipes. Given the vorcha's tendencies, it could be damn near anything. Vorcha were not picky.

I rounded the bend, pistol in my hand and ready to face any resistance from the pack. It was smaller than I figured, no more than three males to two females, their litter of runts mewling in the corner. They made no move to attack, but hissed and spat, growling in a show of force. I studied them briefly, noting the pale flesh and chipped teeth of the alpha male, the emaciated bodies of the females, and realized that the rank smell on the air was death. This was a poor pack and they would die soon.

I held a moment longer, maintaining my distance and an unthreatening pose. While they were hardly a challenge to me, I'd no intent to provoke them. I'd come to learn that any vorcha, even the starving ones, could be dangerous. I kicked the rust from the piping with a booted foot, slipping inside with one last careful glance at the pack. The last thing I wanted was a hungry vorcha following me into the vents. Of course, that might have been less dangerous than where I was bound.

* * *

The Mission – Puscifer

Biscuit - Portishead


	44. Chapter 44

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.

A/N: This chapter rated M for language.

Chapter 44

Muscles pulled tight as I heaved again, my stomach long emptied, its contents soaking my clothes and hair. The stench was nigh unbearable. I had always known vorcha stank of shit, but it was nothing compared to the batarian piss that now dribbled down the pipes. I was drenched in the filth, could feel the rank bile seeping into my pores and cursed myself for an unthinking ambitious fool.

I had thought myself lucky when I breached Aria's walls, the drumming of her guards' feet shooting odd vibrations through the metal flooring and into the pipe in which I slithered, but per usual my luck did not hold. The pipe I had chosen was rusted out in several spots, only one of which I could use for an exit. However, that exit was blocked by a grate in a restroom, the source of my current wretchedness. Given the amount of time I had already used to maneuver through the pipes, I doubted I had much more to spare. I'd no intent to stay in such a predicament any longer than possible and so made a decision.

I pushed against the rusted walls with what strength I had, closing my eyes against the debris that fell upon me. Light slowly filtered into my disgusting confines as my exit slowly became a reality. Satisfied with my small success, I switched my attention to the grate, and the shiny new bolts that held it in place. I stifled a sigh, intent on keeping the waste out of my mouth, and switched on my omni-tool. Adjusting the minifacturing settings I unscrewed the bolts, trying to discern what lie in the room beyond. I couldn't help but chuckle darkly in my wet confines; I had found the barracks, complete with lockers, showers, and urine trough.

Pushing the grate aside, I slid out carefully, silently cursing my lack of planning and the fresh urine that further soaked my clothes. I lay in the trough, scanning the room and hearing nothing, I quietly replaced the grate. Rolling out of the filth I made for the back row of lockers, searching each until I found what I needed. Peeling off my dregs I donned the stolen armor, slapping on the helmet as if I was accustomed to such accoutrements. I glanced at the showers with a look of longing, but ignored my desire in favor of practicality. I could deal with the stench, and perhaps it would keep the guards at bay.

I stalked the halls as if I belonged, nodding in greeting at passing patrols and going about my business as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Normalcy did not raise alarms, did not arouse suspicion. Normalcy was the best form of cover and I used it to buy me time. However, it didn't take long to search her apartments; I only need seek those rooms with the most advanced, extensive encryption. Upon discovering my goal I uploaded Vale's shunt bypass program, locked out the monitoring system, and eagerly awaited the results of my reckless venture.

Only a single pair of guards passed by me as I worked and I doubted they recognized the import of what they guarded. Knowing Aria as I did, it was wholly unlikely that her guards had even the slightest clue. Her secretiveness protected her, set her apart from others, isolated her, and I would turn it to my advantage. Their job was to remain ignorant and follow orders, just as mine had been, and as the lock clicked open, I pondered with surprised amusement how interesting the notion of change truly was.

The door opened with a soft hiss and I slid inside, already scanning my surroundings with a practiced eye. I activated my omni-tool and studied what appeared to be Aria's private office. It was decorated in simple tones, clean lines, and not a speck of dust. Shelves lined the back wall and held a stack of datapads, the occasional trinket, and one row of actual books. I ignored to sudden desire to thumb through the pages, to feel the paper under my fingers, the scent of ink on the air, and focused once again on my task. I'd no time to indulge in past fancies.

Furniture was sparse save for a set of chairs and a single, solitary desk which dominated the room and drew my suspicion immediately. I suppressed the urge to rummage through the drawers, the need to uncover Aria's many secrets pressing behind my eyes, waiting instead for the results of my analysis. It was as I suspected. She had set numerous traps throughout the room, ingeniously disguised and impossible to discern without training. Ironically, I had Aria to thank for my training and advanced skill set.

I put those skills to use bypassing her security systems, painstakingly reviewing my work with endless reserves of ingrained patience. While I believed my 'tool could hack her systems, I had no intent to gamble my life on that supposition. My pirate queen was viciously intelligent and I would be unsurprised, and even a little disappointed, if I was able to gain entry into her files without a challenge. And challenge did she provide. I made my way across the room at an achingly slow pace, inspecting the minutia on the wall, imperfections in the matting, always scanning for the details that meant death for the unwary.

A surge of relief swept over me as I finally reached her desk, but I pushed it aside in favor of practicality. Waving my 'tool over the area I scanned again for traps, triggers, anything that might give away my presence, and found nothing more in my immediate vicinity. I frowned and ran the program again with the same results. After my third scan I sighed reluctantly and activated the desktop console.

The display's light showered the room in brilliant iridescence, the flickering shadows across the walls setting my nerves aflame. I halted my work, scanning the room once more for signs of alarm and found nothing. I bit my lip in frustration, certain that I was missing something, but additional scans revealed nothing. Despite the steadily closing window of opportunity, I heeded the warning churning in my gut. Time would mean nothing if I was caught here and now, and on impulse changed the settings of my 'tool, scanning the room one last time.

My suspicions proved well founded as I noted with satisfaction the additional detection systems on the console. Aria's security had yet to disappoint me and this was no exception. While she was fond of practicality, I was surprised to find her files secured only by simple password protection. However, the program installed was one that I did not recognize, and upon further investigation, one that would not sync to my 'tool.

I breathed deep and frowned again, studying the readout before me, my eyes now accustomed to the brightness of the room. I surmised that the program was old, incredibly old and outdated to so thoroughly reject present technology. And so I found myself in a bit of a quandary. I needed a single password. No biological markers were requested, no retina scans, no security key. One simple word and I would have access to her files. After having come so far, after crawling forever through Omega's piss, was I to be thwarted now? The very idea both thrilled and enraged me.

And so I sat and stared, chin in hand, brows creased in thought, sifting through my memories of her.

Time seemed to stand still. The shadows no longer flickered, the ever present hum of Omega retreated, and even the guards' echoing footsteps were relegated to the back of my mind. All seemed distant and unreal, my focus solely on the display before me. What was the connection? What did Aria prize above all else?

A long forgotten memory surfaced, a hint of the familiar as I had found myself in this position once before. My frown deepened as the similarity struck me and I turned to face the back wall of shelves and the row of books upon it. Surely it could not be that simple, could it?

Activating my omni-tool yet again I examined the row of books for biological markers and residue, following the flood of memory. It appeared that Aria had a small, yet extremely impressive collection, including two rare pieces from the library of Asha. I ran a finger lovingly over the leather spine of one, a compilation of essays, but my eyes quickly darted to the modestly bound book beside it. I pulled it from its home, noting the worn cover and yellowed pages, and found my eyes skimming along the ancient text of what appeared to be a treatise on siarism. I scanned the pages with my 'tool, excitement building as I recognized the care with which this particular piece was provided. The corner of my mouth curled into a wry smile as realization struck me: my pirate queen seemed to not only study her people's religion, but at one time she practiced it, specifically the springtime rites.

I allowed myself a moment of elation as the pieces fell into place. Aria had kept her daughter's identity a secret, yet another of her precautions that ultimately backfired. I had no illusions as to the boundless hate Aria harbored toward Cerberus for her child's murder, and it was no wonder the high esteem in which she held motherhood. The pirate queen played her hand close to the chest, close to the heart, and therein lie her weakness.

I replaced the book exactly as it had been before and returned to the brightly lit display, the ghost of a smile upon my lips as I entered one word: Janiris.

* * *

Telling Ghosts, Queen B - Puscifer


	45. Chapter 45

Disclaimer: Bioware owns almost all.

Chapter 45

Sweat trickles down my brow, hot and sticky and salty on my tongue. My heart pounds in my chest, pulsating inside its cage. The guards are aware of my approach but indifferent, and the entertainment continues, the dancers maintaining their erotic façade. They don't know what I've done, and neither does Aria, or I suspect my death upon entering Afterlife would have been assured. I had the data, my leverage, and although I had taken steps to ensure natural consequences should I quicken to my end, I would go with the knowledge Aria would shortly follow.

It was a bittersweet thought, and one that I did not relish as I had no desire to die. But I'd be damned if I went it alone. I'd drag that bitch down with me.

I followed the rhythm of the base, pounding in time with my heart, and entered Aria's domain. All was as I had left it. I found no comfort in the familiarity of the false flames, nor the stink of perspiration and lust. No feeling of belonging filled me, and long absent was any inkling of loyalty. I thought only of myself now, and I wanted nothing more than to get off this pisshole with my stolen ship and a good lay. Granted, I also needed Vale's contacts if I was to make a living outside of Aria's influence, but he was multitalented.

_I am doing this for me. No one else._

I repeated the thought over and over again as I climbed the steps to the main bar, although it remained a lie no matter how hard I tried to convince myself otherwise. As much as I hated to admit it, I'd grown fond of Vale's company.

_A chestnut mop, black in the darkness, the stars of the void lighting his eyes in the night. Hot hands on my hips, firm and unyielding, wet kisses down my neck, the press of his body against mine…_

I pushed the memory aside, wrenching my attention back to the matter at hand and allowing my pent up frustration to fuel my rage. Fury threaded through my veins, suffusing my limbs and bolstering my courage. I breathed deep, ignoring the scent of sex upon the air, focusing instead on the approach to Aria's perch. She had kept me on a prettied up leash, trained me to be her servant, taught me almost all that I knew, and taken away the potential for all that I could have been. I owed her a debt of pain.

A cold calm replaced the heat in my veins as I reined in my emotions, the need for practicality and a clear head necessary for what I must do. My pirate queen wielded secrets as a weapon. I would do the same. She had taught me well, after all.

I set my shoulders and straightened my spine, and took a single deep breath as I took my first step up the staircase. Anto turned his head in recognition, his expression hooded in shadow, but made no move to prevent my passing. It was as I suspected – Aria did not know of my intrusion into her apartments, did not know of the weapon I now wielded, for if she did I would have been shot on sight. Her private guard was nothing if not loyal and I was nothing more than meat if she ordered it be so.

I took another deep breath as I crested the landing, noting almost absently that her guard had not increased. The usual couple sat in the corner booth, both armed and alert although to a casual observer it would appear otherwise. A hint of annoyance crept up my spine at the poor fit of the man's jacket. For a professional, I would have thought he'd at least have the decency to find a suit that didn't bulge in back where he had holstered his weapon. Poor form indeed.

Another pair of guards flanked the landing, as per usual, as well as the two other either side of the staircase. I eyed Aria's perch, recognizing the two asari dancers that flanked her couch. Even in the dim light of the false flames I could make out the stiletto each had carefully strapped to the back of their costumes. It was an ingenious idea: everyone notices the entertainment, but not a one pays attention to _that_ part of their anatomy.

Aria appeared to be relaxing comfortably, long legs crossed, drink in hand, but I knew better. She had noticed my arrival as soon as I stepped inside her domain, had anticipated this moment likely expecting word of my success. However, the slight crease in her brow shouted warning to me. Aria knew something was amiss as she had not received word from her men. I doubted I had ever returned to her before news of my success did. Although I was sure no one else would recognize it for what it was, I couldn't help the smirk that curled my lips, because in that instant my darling Aria was confused.

I relished that brief moment, putting the image to memory with sweet satisfaction until I saw Vale. My breathing hitched and I could feel my calm splinter. The abrasion on his face had darkened and spread, coloring his cheek in swirling hues of blue and violet. Lips that once pressed against mine were split and the corners of his mouth crusted with blood. His wrists were still tightly bound to his ankles, the ancient manacles as much for show as they were for practical use. He remained collared, yoked by submission and forced to his knees, but even in the shadows I recognized the glint of anger in his eyes. Aria had put him on display and he recognized his purpose. And like me, he had learned the lesson of defiance.

I took one last deep breath, forcing my legs to move, my feet to ascend the stairs, slowing knitting together my fractured bits of calm. Aria's gaze turned full upon me as I finally presented myself to her, proud, defiant. Free. Her eyes narrowed slightly, her brow creasing in suspicion. I remained silent while she studied me, confident in the knowledge that I held the upper hand.

Smoke and shadows danced upon the air, the silence stretching between us, the tension thick and tangible. I saw a guard fidget out of the corner of my eye, but I dare not tear my eyes away from the danger before me. Aria had cared for me in her own way, as an asset, a commodity, but cared for me nonetheless. She deserved my attention, my respect, and I would not turn away from a woman as powerful as she.

"Jin." My name, a single word yet so powerful, and it fell from her lips with the weight of a boulder. She pulled on the ancient chains in her lap, the ringing of the shackles mingling with Vale's grunt of pain.

I cocked an eyebrow and nodded, testing the waters in which I now waded. Would Aria jump to the point, or would she toy with me first?

"Your handlers have yet to check in. They're usually so prompt."

To the point it was then.

"What, you mean you didn't put them in chains? But I thought this fashion was all the rage." Vale snorted contemptuously and raised his wrists in show. "It's retro."

Aria gestured elegantly, almost as an afterthought, and Vale doubled over in pain as the guard's rifle butt struck the back of his head. "Honestly Jin, I don't know what it is you see in him."

I kept my expression neutral, my voice even, but Aria knew me well and that familiarity betrayed me. I need not lie, but I saw no profit in sharing the whole truth. "He has his uses."

Wicked laughter filled the spaces between us and I recognized the angry glint in Vale's eyes. He spat out the blood at her feet, but remained doubled over, bracing himself for the blow to come. I suppressed a wince as the rifle butt came down again, the muffled impact fueling my contained rage within. Turning my gaze upon Aria I noted unsurprisingly the smug satisfaction writ plain on her face. Oh how I desired to erase that expression and replace it with shock, anger, fear. I wanted her to know pain, but quickly quelled those desires. I would not be baited.

Her entertainment halted for the moment, Aria's eyes once more met mine and in them I saw a brief flicker of irritation. "Where are your handlers, Jin?"

The tone of her voice spoke with command. It was an order, not a question and I answered it with simple truth, relishing the recognition upon her face.

"Dead."

She took a sip of her beverage, condensation thick on the glass, droplets falling upon her lap. I pushed aside thoughts of those legs, how the shadows played upon her curves, turning my frustrations to purpose. I held her gaze, aware of the shift in her guards' stances and the building tension in my own body.

"And what, exactly, did they do to deserve such a fate?"

Another simple truth: "They were in my way."

She smiled deliciously then, genuinely curious. "Oh? And the Cerberus operative?"

I licked dry lips and breathed deep, adrenaline pumping and hands itching. I remembered the weight of my pistols on my hips, their comforting familiarity steadying my resolve. "Not dead."

She cocked her head ever so slightly, but her guards were watching. I was watching. And in one swift move I activated my omni-tool, and held my arm aloft, the scrolling display bathing her perch in an eerie orange glow even as her guards brought their guns to bear on me. I held her gaze with surety and defiance while she, in turn, looked on in amused surprise.

"You bring an omni-tool to a gunfight, Jin?" She shook her head dismissively. "And here I thought I taught you better than that."

Even surrounded by armed guards, their weapons trained on me, I allowed myself a triumphant smile made all the more enjoyable by her response. "You taught me well, Aria. Perhaps better than you should have."

Her gaze hardened in anger and she stood abruptly, yanking Vale's chains along behind her. He snarled into the hard floor, muttering something unintelligible as he fell flat. "You dare challenge me? Here?" Aria spread her arms, gesturing dramatically. "You forget that I _am_ Omega. Who are you to be anything but a slave?"

My smile broadened as she spat the words at me, the knowledge from my endeavors egging me onward. "I am what you made me."

She snorted, moving faster than I had ever imagined possible. Her hands wrapped around my neck with surprising strength, fingers I once thought delicate now pressed against my throat with deadly precision. My vision swam, colorful spots dotting the air as I struggled for breath. And still I managed to laugh maddeningly. Aria was signing her own death warrant with my demise, and I found the fact that she was oblivious incredibly entertaining.

Even as my vision darkened and her face blurred, I recognized the confusion in her eyes. And then as suddenly as before, Aria released me and moved away, pacing across the landing like a caged beast. I fell to my knees, coughing, sputtering, gasping for breath. Despite my asphyxiated state, I still couldn't help but giggle inanely at my predicament. I knew it would likely come to this, and the reality of my situation was anything but humorous, but everything felt so surreal. I was doing what no sane individual on Omega dared: I was challenging Aria T'Loak's authority in her own damn club.

I finally caught my breath, glancing up at Aria's enraged face with a mischievous grin. I activated my 'tool again and held my arm aloft, the orange light of the display once more illuminating the spaces between us. She paused midstride and considered me.

"What is this?" I felt the anger in her voice, controlled yet recognizable.

I coughed again and stood to meet her gaze, my smile evaporated to be replaced once more with practiced calm. I considered her guards momentarily, their weapons still trained on me, the tension of their bodies evident, but I also recognized the curiosity. Once did not lean into a conversation if one was not interested.

"The Janiris rites hold interesting information, do they not? For instance, payments to a Mr. Geiger from 'AL?'" I gestured to my surroundings. "AfterLife makes interesting purchases."

I saw the recognition in Aria's eyes, the way her nostrils flared slightly, and I was thrilled. Despite the danger, despite the murder in her gaze, I continued.

"There was also an interesting Salarian file –"

My head throbbed as a whirlwind of color exploded behind my eyes and I fell to my knees as the guard moved back into position, the butt of his rifle wet and slick with moisture. I pressed my palm to my hair, matted and damp. I was strangely surprised to see fresh blood, realizing it was my own as my wits cleared. In my arrogance I had missed Aria's signal and had paid the price. I would not be so clumsy again.

My pirate queen crouched next to me, eyes ablaze with fury. She grabbed a handful of hair and yanked my head up, forcing me to meet the intensity of her gaze.

"You know what must be done, Jin. You've left me no choice."

I held up my hand to forestall her, beating back the confusion from the blow. "You do that and we're both dead."

She snorted again, but said nothing, eyeing me skeptically instead. And I knew I had her.

"If anything should happen to me, or to Vale, my 'tool is programmed to send off the information."

"Oh?" She stood, once more considering me. "And just what authority can touch me here?"

I shook my head and answered simply. "Not the authorities, no. But perhaps the mercenary bands, Cerberus, and one very meticulous dalatrass."

Her gaze bored into my being and I felt her anger as surely as if she had struck me herself. Aria held me in her fury for longer than I would have liked, but I also recognized it would be the last time, and oddly enough I felt a hint of sorrow at the realization. She was my pirate queen, my mentor, my master, and she had provided me with the tools to survive in a place where I would have likely perished. I had known what she was, what she represented, and allowed her to collar me as her own. I both respected and hated her and as I studied her expression, I believed she felt the same.

She waved a hand and her guards stood down, suspicion and anxiety on their features. Aria took one step toward me, closing the distance between us, heedless of our surroundings. I felt a feather light tickle as she traced a single finger down my cheek, but her emotions were again under tight rein and her expression clouded.

"You will leave Omega."

I nodded. "Yes."

"You will leave the Terminus."

My heart pounded in my chest once again. "Yes."

"You will disappear because if I hear your name – if you cross my path ever again, you will die."

She snatched her fingers from my cheek and I almost lurched forward at the sudden absence. "Yes."

Aria held me in her gaze for a brief moment longer before handing me Vale's chains and returning to her usual seat. She waved her hand dismissively, taking another sip of her beverage and turning her attention to the dancer on her right. I stood, stunned as reality settled in. I was free.

* * *

Counting Bodies Like Sheep – A Perfect Circle

I'm on Fire - Stateless


	46. Chapter 46

Disclaimer: Bioware owns almost all.

A/N: So after over a year of work we finally come to the end. Thanks so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, and followed along. You all make projects such as this so much more fun and worthwhile. And a huge thanks to Sesh for helping me with every single chapter. I couldn't have done this without your help and support. Lastly, this chapter is rated M for sex and violence – no big surprise there.

Chapter 46

"We're clear – no tracers, no bombs, no one on our tail."

I cocked a mischievous eyebrow. "No stowaways?"

"Nope." Vale rubbed his wrists almost absently, still raw from his torture. "I'm sure we could change that if you like."

"I'm good," I said, inspecting the bruise on his cheek. "We really should treat that. It looks horrible."

Vale threw me a cocky half-smile made awkward by a pained wince. "I'll slap some medigel on it soon as we're away."

I nodded, unwilling to say further on the matter, choosing instead to watch him work in the dim light of the bridge.

"Coordinates entered," he stated matter-of-factly. "At this speed we should hit the relay in approximately two hours."

I felt my blood warm and pulse quicken as he stood to face me, green eyes hooded in Omega's shadow. "Any destination in particular?"

"The Horsehead Nebula – I've got a contact there who I know can help us." He moved around the captain's chair to stand before me, rough hand grazing my cheek as his fingers traced the line of my jaw.

I mumbled my acknowledgement, choosing to ignore the kernel of wariness in the back of my mind. I had already put the day's cares behind me in favor of more pleasing activity. Vale said nothing as I pulled him to me, surrendering to my desire. I kissed him lightly at first, tentatively, as if tenderness could ease the pain of Aria's marks. And for a time we yielded to the simplicity of the moment, savoring the taste of each other, the familiarity, until finally acquiescing to the burgeoning heat between us.

He plucked the clothing from my body with alacrity, his kisses fervent and demanding. Need, keen and razor sharp coursed through my veins, and abandoning control I pulled him inside me, relishing the ache of his presence.

Desire, pain, desperation drove us onward as he took me in the shadow of my former home, my prison, and I cried out as he marked me for his own. I could feel the heat of his breath on my shoulder, the scent of his lust on my skin and I pulled him ever closer, raking my nails down his spine, deliciously helpless against the tide of ecstasy threatening to overwhelm me.

And still he drove onward, hips bucking and compelled by lust. And I allowed it, allowed myself to once more be collared by pleasure, reveling in the illusion we had created. Even as my body crashed rhythmically against the console, even as I struggled to bring him ever closer, I knew it wasn't real. And it was the exquisite pain of that realization which finally thrust me over the edge.

And I welcomed the fall.

~O~

I awoke with a start, alone and bathed in the soft blue glow of the mass relay, my hackles raised and suddenly wary. The relay dominated the viewport, showering the small bridge in flickering shadow and setting my nerves aflame. I stood and dressed quickly, securing my stolen pistols on my hip as I began a cautious search of the ship.

An orange glow spilled onto the floor of the narrow corridor from the medbay, the voices within hushed. Padding softly down the hall I pressed an ear against the paneling and strained to listen. From what I could discern, Vale was negotiating a data transfer with an unknown individual on his terminal that I believed could only be his contact. Remembering my training I ignored the pounding of my heart, slowed my breathing and concentrated on the conversation within.

" – is authentic?" The voice the deep, smooth, and had the slight metallic tang which accompanied all interstellar communication.

"I guarantee it." I held my breath at Vale's response, igniting the spark of suspicion to which I had grown so accustomed.

"You did well."

"And the bounties?" I bit my lip at the familiarity in Vale's tone, ignoring the swelling anger in my gut.

"Lifted as per ordered." There was a slight pause followed by a flicker in the orange glow. I held my breath, waiting for the conversation to continue.

Vale coughed and cleared his throat. "We should arrive in-system within the hour. I'll be able to transfer the data at the rendezvous point."

"Agreed. And your excess baggage?"

I held my breath again at the pause in conversation, certain Vale could hear the blood pounding in my veins.

"Expendable." My heart sank at Vale's blunt admission, guilt and anger churning within me, but still I continued to listen. "She could be an asset to the agency if recruited."

Another lengthy pause and I could not help but imagine the anonymous contact rubbing his chin in thought. "Indeed. Cerberus could make use of her."

I pulled back from the doorway then, reeling, fighting against the torrent of emotion flooding my mind. As quietly as I had come, I backtracked down the corridor and into the bridge, biting my lip in thought. Again I was betrayed! How stupid was I to be fooled yet again by the promise of adventure, a pretty face? Freedom? I needed to stop thinking with my vagina.

Gripping the headrest of the pilot's seat I leaned over, placing my forehead on the chair's cool fabric and worked to gather my wits. I'd never learned the lesson of trust and now I knew why. It was a lesson better left unlearned. Trust led to betray. Betrayal led to death, and as I looked up and caught sight of the control panel I realized betrayal need not lead to my death.

It would be all too easy to seal the bridge and activate the emergency venting, tying up any and all loose ends running free on the ship. But as appealing as that idea was, I needed answers. Despite my anger, despite my guilt, I could not subject Vale to such a horrid end without first understanding his motivation, his plans. I also needed to know for certain if any other loose ends required severing.

Setting aside emotion in favor of practicality I went to work, manipulating the ship's unfamiliar controls as best I was able. I succeeded in locking out the other terminals and established the pilot's console as the only functional terminal on the ship. Satisfied with my meager victory, I sync'd up my omni-tool and sliced the terminal, setting up a simple password protection. Vale would have no access to the ship - no navigation, communication, and if I was indeed as successful as I hoped, no life support. If anything should happen to me, Vale would be left coasting on our present course and into the mass relay. With drift left unchecked, it would be a wonder if the ship made it through the relay at all.

Neither Arch nor Aria had taught me business sense, but I did enjoy a good guarantee nonetheless.

And so I waited for him, quietly seated in the pilot's chair, watching as we inched ever closer to the relay looming in the viewport. Vale did as I expected and returned to the bridge. I imagine he was surprised I was not still sleeping, but the tone of his greeting gave away nothing. I breathed deep, embracing my anger, my guilt, and let it settle upon my shoulders like a decorative mantle as I turned to him. He met my gaze unflinching, green eyes sparkling in the flickering shadow, the sapphire light of the relay blanketing his beautiful face in an unearthly glow.

I realized that I had always been attracted to him, that I loved the way he antagonized me, toyed with me, bedded me. I had never uncovered his secrets because Vale was better at this game than I, and I both hated and loved him for it. A swell of laughter gurgled and died in my chest as I realized that Aria would have found my situation infinitely humorous and I couldn't help but think she already knew it would happen. No wonder she let us walk.

"So you heard." It was more a statement - an acknowledgement - than a question and the words from Vale's lips fell like stones.

Nodding, I held his gaze. "It was hard not too – small ship and all."

He held his hands out as if in surrender and took a single step toward me, halting as he noticed the pistol suddenly in my hand. "So this is how it's going to be, Jin? After everything?"

Pushing aside a surge of anger I cocked an annoyed eyebrow. "After playing me for a fool? What were you really trying to accomplish?"

He studied me for a time before appearing to relent and returned to his original position. "You mean you haven't figured it out yet?"

Raising my pistol I flicked off the safety and eyed him. "I learned long ago not to make any assumptions. Let's just say I want confirmation."

His shoulders shook with light laughter. "Whatever you say, Jin."

I gestured with my pistol again. "Tell me."

"As you wish." He leaned almost casually against the wall, crossing his arms as he considered me. "I was being honest when I told you Guy – Arnold was used to lure you out into the open. I needed to know for certain that you were the one we wanted."

"We? You mean Cerberus," I practically spat.

He nodded plainly. "You were a means to an end, Jin, and I used you to get a leg up on Aria. Thanks to your timely rescue and lovely bit of blackmail, I have my assigned objective practically in hand."

I glanced to my omni-tool as the realization took hold. Guy had never worked for the Shadow Broker as Vale had told me, but based on his bank accounts he _had_ been double dealing Aria and Cerberus. I had been set up from the beginning, fed lies, coaxed into doubt and desperation, all in a bid for power. My manipulation was a masterpiece, and my guilt sang as I knew it would have never been accomplished had I not allowed it. Vale had used my suspicion and lust against me, and yet again I felt a mix of respect and loathing for him.

"I'm surprised you didn't pick up on it sooner, Jin. I thought for sure the MWF in Arnold's bank accounts would give it away. What - it isn't a popular rumor on Omega that the Milky Way Foundation is a front for Cerberus?"

"No," I blurted. "Omega never concerned itself overmuch with Cerberus."

Vale snorted. "I never could understand why you liked that place so much."

A jolt of irritation flashed through my body. Omega might have been a pisshole, but it was _my_ pisshole. I lived there. I worked there. I had loved there. Omega didn't hide what it was, didn't lie, didn't coerce. Omega spread her legs wide and whored herself out for those willing to enjoy her wares while proudly baring her vices. However seedy, however deadly she was, Omega was brutally honest.

I could not say the same for Vale, however, and my sudden flash of irritation soon turned cold. Pistol in hand I stood and faced him.

"What's it to be, Jin?" He straightened as I approached, eyeballing the muzzle pointed directly at him. "Are you really going to shoot me?"

The enormous eezo core of the relay glowed brightly in the viewport, the bridge humming with its energy and bathed in its light. I watched as his eyes met mine, saw the question in their midst and felt my will falter. Vale recognized it as well and took a tentative step toward me.

"Jin, you don't have to do this." He reached out and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "We can always find another way."

The pistol in my hand was no longer cool against my skin and had grown heavy in my hand. I longed to feel his lips upon my body, revel in the tides of ecstasy with him, sleep soundly against the steady drumming of his heartbeat, and so forgot myself in the moment as desire battled necessity. Vale recognized his opening and recklessly pulled me to him, crushing his lips against mine in a fevered, desperate kiss.

Gone was the familiarity of his warmth, the taste of his breath, the need to feel him inside me. Absent was the passion I once felt for him, the camaraderie. The necessity. Whatever we had was now corrupt. Without thought I raised my pistol, pressed it against his temple, and noted absently the look of disbelief on his face as I pulled the trigger.

The shot reverberated through the shadows, its echo lingering in the stillness of the bridge as the ship inched ever closer to the relay. I clung to my emptiness as I turned from his body, an unfeeling, practical machine once again, and attended to the pilot's console.

The course was still set for the Horsehead Nebula. I no longer saw any particular reason to continue on to that destination and many reasons to avoid it. But what other destination would suffice? I could not return to Omega as Aria would have my head, and I dare not frolic aimlessly around the Terminus systems any more than I already had. So where, then, was the most logical choice? Where could someone like me hide?

The hint of a smile curled the corner of my lips as an idea struck me, a dream from ages ago crushed by a woman long dead – a woman who had confiscated my favorite childhood book. Adjusting the coordinates for the Charon relay I stood with renewed vigor and whimsically clicked my heels together three times.

There's no place like home.

* * *

Together We Will Live Forever - Clint Mansell

Horizons - Puscifer


End file.
